


Broken Wing-Man

by FawkesFire13



Category: Midnight Poppy Land (Webcomic)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:53:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 22,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25151935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FawkesFire13/pseuds/FawkesFire13
Summary: Quincey watches his friend navigate a complicated relationship.
Relationships: Quincey/ Cordelia/ random, Tora/ Poppy
Comments: 168
Kudos: 190





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I sat down and tried to find a place in the webtoon we don’t talk a lot about. I decided to look at things from Quincey’s eyes, and how some of these events might look to him. He is in a interesting place to observe things, and he has a sharp mind. I think Tora and Quincey have a good relationship, and I’d like to explore that more. I hope you all enjoy my interpretation of the events. I promise I’ll try and add some humor too.
> 
> As always, all characters belong to Lilydusk

“Oi, Quince!”

Tora’s voice barked from the guest bathroom. Quincey looked up, schooling his face in to what he hoped was passive interest. If he was honest with himself he was burning inside. Tora had driven them home from his.....”meeting” with Morrison in silence. He knew not to ask too many questions. Just who was this “girl from Chevy’s” and why was Tora smiling at her text.

“Yes, Tora?”

“What do I do about this?” Tora asked standing in front of him, a annoyed look on his face. Quincey blinked as Tora gestured vaguely to his hair. Quincey felt his eyes widen just slightly wondering if Tora was suggesting he cut his hair, something that hadn’t happened for.....well, YEARS. Tora kept his inky locks long and to be fair, it was a look most guys couldn’t pull off, but Tora did. Quincey frowned: 

“You want to get a haircut?”

“No. It’s this....” Tora ran a frustrated hand through the front of his hair and pushed it flat on his head. A small section popped up and sprang forward. It was oddly curled. Quincey noticed the steely gleam in Tora’s eyes. He was annoyed. With his hair. When the hell did Tora start caring about his hair?

“Oh. Hold on a minute. I think I’ve got something....” Quincey stood and padded past Tora, and rummaged in his own bathroom. He handed the small container to Tora. “Use a little bit, and work it into you hair, push it back.....” Tora was already heading back to the bathroom. Quincey eyed him carefully. Nice pants. He had a nice button up shirt waiting to be put on. A leather corded necklace, and his normal bracelet and ring. 

Was his little Tiger going on a date?!

Quincey bit his tongue and refrained from asking. Tora didn’t do details. He didn’t do social life. He didn’t date. And he didn’t answer questions. Quincey felt his entire being hyper focus on one singular question: 

WHO HAD CAPTURED TORA’S INTEREST?

He somehow doubted it was Candy. That pink haired girl that Claude was infatuated with. He had casually heard some of his father’s men taking some cheap jabs at Tora. Jabs that made Quincey’s jaw clench. Tora was....well, it was complicated, but Tora was his friend, even if he was a hulking shadow of a man with a creepy smile. His oldest friend, he had to admit. 

Quincey frowned. Growing up was hard, at times. His father expected him to be the best in school. To learn and one day take over the family business. Well, Quincey was smart, he was a bit of a teacher’s pet when he was younger. Never stopped him from wanting to be like Tora. Without fear, it would seem, and confident. 

Thankfully they’d both grown up a bit, and well, Quincey saw Tora as a brother and friend. As was evident from this afternoon, some things never changed, Quincey ruefully rubbed his head where Tora landed a single blow. A nice size bruise had formed. 

“Sorry.” Tora walked past him, reaching for the shirt hanging over the back of a chair. Quincey watched impassively. Tora was apologizing? When had they dropped into the Twilight Zone? 

“Don’t worry about it. I should be working on this new novel anyway.” Quincey yawned. “He wasn’t that hot anyway.”

“New one?” Tora questioned, buttoning up the shirt. Quincey could never tell if Tora was asking because he was curious about his love life, or he just needed to know for security reasons. 

“Yeah. Tall, dark.....sorta handsome.”

“Hmm.”

“What about you, Mister Tight Pants?” Quincey questioned casually, going to the kitchen. He needed wine. The suspense was killing him. 

“Business.” Tora grunted from the living room. Quincey glanced up. If Tora was going out on “business” tonight, he would eat his loafers. He had a feeling he wouldn’t be chewing leather tonight. Tora was standing silently next to the couch, typing something into his much abused phone. The offending strand of hair popped up and Tora pushed it down again with a angry growl. Quincey frowned. Well, he wasn’t going to let Tora head out on “business” feeling anything less than perfect. He took in his clothing and went back to Tora’s room. Well, the room he used when he was staying here and came back out with one of his hats. A simple black one and held it out. Tora looked up and nodded, face impassive. He jammed the hat on his head.

“Where’s ‘business’ at tonight?”

“Black Swan.” Tora grumbled after a minute. Quincey mentally noted that Black Swan Bistro wasn’t a typical Clan location, but it was classy. Nice. Good food. Dress code. Yep. This was a date. He somehow doubted Tora would be snapping fingers in the dining room there. 

Not for the last time, Quincey felt a mild stab of jealously. How the hell did he manage to look that effortlessly good? Quincey normally needed about a good 45 minutes of prep work to pull off “sexy.” Tora could roll off his couch, after two hours of sleep and look like a god. No really, Quincey had seen him do it. Un Fucking Fair.

By Quincey’s calculations, on a normal day, Tora spent approximately 10 minutes getting ready for any event. Including showering, shaving and MAYBE combing that dark mass of hair on his head, if he didn’t just tie it back in a half bun. Tonight he had spent 49 minutes and 32 seconds in the bathroom. Yes, he was keeping track. This was a momentous occasion after all. Quincey even caught the very faint scent of a woodsy, musky cologne on Tora.

WHO WAS THIS GIRL??

Quincey wanted to grab Tora and shake him. Who had finally captured his interest? He was bubbling with suppressed joy. Oh, he hoped she was nice to him. A brief memory of Tora smiling at his phone flashed in Quincey’s mind. Not the creepy smile. A real smile. Tora grunted once. 

“I’ll be back late.”

“Have fun.” Quincey grinned, finally choosing a merlot and pouring a generous measure. “Hope business goes well.” Tora patted his pocket, checked for his keys and strode out the door.

The door slammed shut and Quincey sighed softly. Tora had found someone. He couldn’t wait to see how this went. He hoped well. In all the years he had grown up with Tora he had never seen anyone hold Tora’s interest for more than 24 hours, and nobody had ever made him spend longer than 10 minutes getting ready. Quincey paced the floor, sipping his merlot.

Tora had spent that one summer when they were kids mooning after a little brunette. Quincey vaguely recalled her enormous brown eyes, wild chocolate curls and her habit of drinking strawberry juice. Quincey found the stuff to be nauseatingly sweet, but oddly, Tora, who didn’t eat sweets seemed to love it. In fact, he still drank it. The “strawberry girl.” Quincey smirked. That had been years ago. When they were kids.....

Quincey shook his head and frowned. It was well past time for Tora to find someone. He knew his friend didn’t exactly have free time. Or freedom. Not when his father demanded the heart and soul of every man working for him, but Tora was different, at least to Quincey. He had a vague idea of what Vincent had done to shape Tora. In his darker moments sometimes Tora dropped clues, or let something slip. Still didn’t change what Quincey saw under all that. 

Well, maybe his friend would find a nice little open minded lady to settle down with. He could hope. Picking up a pen and his journal he settled in to write. He had let Tora think he had canceled his plans with “Sorta Handsome” because of the bruise forming on his head. Really it was because wild horses wouldn’t be able to drag him away from the penthouse tonight. Tora was coming back here after “business” and Quincey wanted to see how it went. He would wait until sunrise if he had to. 

With a snort, he began writing, looking out the massive windows towards the city sky line. Tora could probably make the “walk of shame” look sexy too. 

Un Fucking Fair, indeed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quincey has a lot to think about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m trying to give a different point of view for these events. They might not be accurate, but I’m fairly sure Quincey observes and makes note of things. I’m also working off the idea that Quincey genuinely considers Tora his friend, and possibly brother. Hope you enjoy.
> 
> As always, all characters belong to Lilydusk

The door opened roughly and slammed shut. The lock turned, and then the deadbolt slide into place. Quincey jumped, eyes flying towards the sound and blinked. 

Tora stood there, eyes closed for a full 10 seconds before growling something about needing a shower. 

“Are you.....feeling okay?” Quincey asked, sitting up straighter. Tora frowned. 

“Fine. Tired. Long night.” He stalked past him and slammed the bathroom door closed. Quincey could smell that green apple scent on him. He only knew one person who used green apple in their vape and that Tora would spend any time with. That chain smoking, little angry storm of a woman with a gambling addiction. 

Alice.

What had he been doing there? The tiny restaurant was Tora’s lair. He had shown Quincey the place once. The food was excellent, but Tora had never offered to take him back. Alice had always been important to Tora. Even after her son, Joe had died....

He pushed his blonde hair back, suddenly deflated. He wouldn’t just take someone to Alice’s place, would he? He was positive Tora had said he was going to the Black Swan. Had there really been Clan business at the Black Swan?

He wasn’t wearing what he left in. Where the hell had he gotten that jacket from? Shit, did he get another shirt covered in blood? Quincey checked his watch. 2:14am. What the hell had Tora been up to? For a single moment Quincey considered the possibility that Tora had decided to fool around in his car, but no. Tora had dressed up. Had taken time to look presentable. He wasn’t about to just mess around in his car going out like that. He’d had a date. A real date. 

Quincey knocked loudly on the bathroom door, hearing the shower running. 

“Do you need the first aid kit? Or to take those pants to the cleaners? I don’t want blood all over the damn floors again! You know it makes me sick!”

“Shove it, Quinceton!” Tora snarled. Well, he wasn’t hurt then. Normally Tora was quieter if he was injured. So that was good. Quincey frowned at the door. 

“Fine. Did you eat?”

“Are you my fucking nurse?”

“You wish, you brute!” Quincey called. “I’ll call for something. Not many places open right now, but I think I can find something.”

Silence. Well, he could hear the shower running but nothing else. Quincey walked into the kitchen and began looking in the fridge. Nothing to feed a hungry tiger. Well, nothing he felt like warming up. Judging by the tone in his voice, Tora was ravenous. Quincey opened his phone. The perks of being a Balthuman came in handy at 2:14am. He pressed a contact labeled “Delivery.”

“Sir?” A alert male voice answered. 

“I need something to eat. A nice steak. Medium rare. Vegetables. Whatever is in season. Bring some fruit. Strawberries. I expect them to be fresh. And some sparkling mineral water. Cold. Glacial. I want to hear a string quartet playing “Nearer My God to Thee” from the deck of the Titanic when i drink it. Quickly.” Quincey snapped into the phone. He did have a reputation to uphold after all.

“Right away, sir.”

He hung up and looked at the bathroom again, worriedly. Had Tora’s date gone that horribly wrong? He was certain Tora had eaten at Alice’s place, but a moody Tora was also known to inhale a ridiculous amount of protein. Besides, Quincey figured he would talk about it sooner or later. Maybe. Hopefully.

“Got you some food, Honey!” He called, pouring another glass of wine. He took down a second glass. “I’m pouring you some wine, don’t argue with me! It’s a good vintage. And you like reds.” The merlot reached the half way mark and Quincey stopped. Even in his blackest of moods he didn’t drink much. 

Tora was many things, he reflected. Complicated was a good word to use. But there was a lot more to that, and if Quincey was honest with himself, he was really hoping this date would have produced something good for Tora. Did this unnamed lady say something to him? Quincey’s eyes narrowed dangerously. He retained very few friends, and Tora was more than a bodyguard his father assigned to him. He sipped his wine slowly. 

When Tora emerged from the sweltering heat of the bathroom, Quincey glanced over, and his frown deepened. Shit. He was doing that thing he did when he was trying not to think too hard. His eyes emptied and his shoulders were tight. He had changed into sweats and a black tank top. Gym clothes. 

“Here.” Quincey offered the wine glass to Tora, who took it but didn’t drink. Quincey sat back down on the couch. “If you want to use the gym, make it fast. Your food is on the way and cold steak is repulsive.”

Tora grunted and sat down. Alarm bells fired off in Quincey’s head. Was Tora actually going to sit down and drink the wine without a fuss? Well.....shit. What had happened to him?

“Want to talk about it, Honey?”

“No.”

Quincey watched Tora close his eyes. Outwardly, his friend looked normal. But he knew in every fiber of his body that something had hurt him. The small fragment of his personality that Quincey retained from his father was his anger. He didn’t like being wronged and that feeling extended to his friends as well. That tiny, sharp sliver of white hot fury pulsed in him. Who had hurt his friend?

“I can make this my business.” Quincey offered vaguely. Tora glanced over. 

“It’s done.” Tora grumbled. There was a soft knock on the door and Quincey stood before Tora and walked to open it. The doorman handed him a black tote bag and Quincey passed him a twenty. 

“Come eat.” Quincey said, opening various containers and making sure his orders had been followed. Of course they had been. A lovely juicy steak, grilled vegetables sprinkled with kosher salt, a generous helping of mashed potatoes that he knew Tora would most likely ignore, and a dark green bottle that was sweating contained the mineral water. Plus a separate carton of deep red strawberries. Tora came over and picked up a handful of strawberries and bit into one. Quincey arched a eyebrow at him. “I was thinking you should eat something a bit more filling than fruit.”

Tora shot him a look and sat down. 

“Smells good.” Tora said, by way of a thank you. Quincey only nodded, satisfied. He went back to his journal. He was half way finished with a plot line in the new pirate novel. 

“Excellent. You can pay me back by beta reading this when I’m finished.”

“Fine.” 

Quincey looked up, further alarmed. This was too easy. Had his friend suffered head trauma? 

“Did someone hit you on the head? Since when are you so soft and accommodating?” Quincey asked. For the briefest of moments Tora smirked. Then it was gone, his impassive mask sliding back into place. “Was that a ‘yes’?” 

“Drop it, Quincey.” Tora’s voice a low growl. 

“You call me a princess...”

“Quinceton.” Tora’s voice was dripping with hostility. Quincey glanced up. 

“Eat your food and don’t get your panties twisted.” Quincey shot back. “It’s late and if you don’t want to talk I suggest you get some sleep. I hate when you’re a grouchy ass.”

Tora grunted and applied himself to his food. Quincey continued working in silence, but his mind was seething. Why was it so difficult for Tora? The man had women and men throwing themselves at him all the time. Personally, he found the “Fred and Fran’s Sausage Shop” prank hilarious, but this... He knew his friend had bedded a few women, but nobody stuck around. Well, it was a dangerous life style. He understood that. But other clan men had girlfriends, wives, lovers, mistresses....

Rubbing his eyes he finally leaned back in the couch and let out a loud sigh. Tora finished and tossed the containers in the garbage. Then silently crossed the room and sat next to him.

“What does jackfruit smell like?”

“.......what?” Quincey looked over at Tora, his amber eyes were looking at his wine glass. 

“What does jackfruit...” 

“No, I heard you. Why do you want to know?” Quincey raised a eyebrow. 

“Just....curious.”

“Musky. Kinda stinky.” Quincey said after a moment. Tora’s frown deepened. 

“It’s not.....like a slang for anything?”

Quincey stared.

“Is jackfruit a slang for something? Did you seriously hit your head?”

Tora stood, drained his wine. 

“I’m going to bed. Got work in a few hours.”

Quincey watched his friend disappear into the guest room. He took out his phone. He scrolled Wikipedia looking at the entry for jackfruit. 

What had this lady said to Tora?


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quincey begins connecting the dots.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of this is pure speculation on my part. I wasn’t too certain how a “typical” Quincey day would go, so I put together a loose timeline. Hope it works for everyone.
> 
> Also, had to add Patty. Thanks for showing me Ginger Quincey.
> 
> As always, all characters belong to Lilydusk

Quincey woke up and stared at the clock. 8:00am was a ungodly hour. Why did people act like the sunrise was a beautiful thing? Only fairytale princesses with their own army of bird hairstylists enjoyed mornings. Then again, those princesses didn’t have to deal with angry tigers, or late nights at clubs. If he hadn’t had a salon appointment at 10:00am he would have happily slept the day away. Being a independent writer had its perks. 

A crash and muffled curse came from the kitchen telling him Tora was awake. Was that man trying to make breakfast? Did he eat anything besides cigarette smoke for breakfast? His friend was less likely than him to be awake at this hour, but that was normally because he was prowling the darkness of Narin city doing his father’s bidding. If ever there was a evil villain to his own story, it was the one related by blood. Quincey frowned and pushed that thought down. Family was difficult. Even more so when it influenced his friends. Then again.....would he even have his friends in his life if it wasn’t for his dad. That was a bleak thought. It was too early for this type of thinking. He’d need about three mimosas before he could comfortably address that particular subject. 

Quincey listened for a few minutes longer trying to figure out exactly what Tora was trying to make, then decided he had better get up and supervise. If Tora was going to burn down the penthouse when he flipped on the gas oven, he at the very least deserved a front row seat to the show.

Tora, it seemed had been awake for a while. Or maybe he had never gone to sleep. Hard to tell, this time. But glancing around Quincey noted several more cigarette butts had been added to the ashtray on the balcony. So most likely, Tora had been up for at least a couple hours.

“Honey, if you want me to feed you, just ask. No need to destroy my kitchen.” Quincey yawned and eyed the food Tora had brought out. Eggs. Bread. Bacon. Alright. Easy enough. “Sit down. Or go dump that ash tray. I don’t want the smell lingering.”

Tora glared, but was uncharacteristically quiet. Quincey cracked a half dozen eggs into a bowl and whisked them quickly. He watched Tora empty his ashtray and then lay back on the couch and began texting someone. Quincey narrowed his eyes. Was it mystery lady?

He dumped the eggs onto a hot buttered pan and sprinkled salt, pepper and some cheese onto them and watched them cook. Diva he may be, but cooking could be relaxing and it also gave him a chance to spy on Tora without being obvious. 

As Quincey cooked, Tora sent messages, and called someone once. However when he made the call he had walked to the balcony and spoke quietly, much to the annoyance of a very frustrated blonde. Quincey watched quietly, for a few more minutes and called: “get a plate, I’m not bringing it to you.” Tora put his phone in his pocket and grabbed a plate from a cupboard and began serving out portions, handing the first plate to Quincey, then took out a bottle of strawberry juice and uncapped it, ready to drink directly from the bottle.

“Damnit, put it in a glass, Tora!”

“I’m the only one who drinks this.” Tora said, eyebrows raised. 

“I don’t care! That’s barbaric!” Quincey snapped. Tora smirked and took a swig anyway before reaching for a glass and pouring some in. Quincey restrained himself from rolling his eyes. “Honestly, Tora. I know somewhere under all that hair and muscle you’ve got manners.”

Quincey finished eating, watching Tora wolf down his food and wonder what was going on in that head of his. He didn’t want to talk and probably wouldn’t today. Maybe tomorrow.  
“Don’t forget you’re taking me to get my highlights done this morning.” Quincey said as Tora stood to put his plate in the sink. 

“Didn’t ya just get your hair done a couple weeks ago?” Tora spat, sounding more like himself. Quincey adopted a bored face, encouraged that Tora’s typical annoyance was creeping to the surface. 

“Do you have any idea how difficult it is to keep my hair looking fabulous? This isn’t some amateur bleach job, Tora.” Quincey rolled his eyes, gauging Tora’s reaction to his offhand comment. He never quite let Tora live down that horrible orange hair he had as a teen. “This is a delicate job, done by professionals. I have to stay looking elegant.”

Tora didn’t respond, well, he shot Quincey a sideways glance but nothing else. Feeling like he could push his luck a bit more Quincey added: “We could also do something with your style if you want. I’m sure Genevieve will make time for you. We can add some layers. Did you want to go orange again?”

“I know where you sleep, Quinceton.” 

“Yes, yes. The big scary tiger hides under my bed at night. Eats the monsters that live under there for breakfast. I’m showering and I’ll be ready soon.” Quincey yawned and stood, walking back to the master bedroom. 

The day passed quickly, for Quincey anyway. He had a hair appointment, the lovely Genevieve and her assistant, Patty, carefully touching up his platinum locks. Patty was a real gem, and as she had, several appointments prior, tried to convince Quincey to go red. He had laughed. “Oh sweetie, I’d have to change my entire wardrobe to look good as a ginger.” Genevieve had shushed them both and told Quincey not to ruin her masterpiece. Patty had laughed and adjusted her glasses, still smiling and told him to consider it and she would drop everything to make it happen. Quincey had only smirked and fielded some calls from his manager, then went to his personal tailor, getting some slacks and a few shirts fitted. Somewhere around the time his second shirt was being fitted he told his manager to make the public announcement about his publisher.

“Make sure it’s in the news.” Quincey frowned as his tailor checked a seam. “I want this public so they know I’m not bargaining.” 

Tora had only glanced up briefly, then continued his quiet conversation he’d been having on his own phone. All the while Quincey kept a running dialogue going, speaking mostly to himself and trying to figure out what was on his friends mind, even peekng a few times at Tora’s phone as he sent texts.

Mr. Lam

Just find him.

Hotel name?

Scharch

Flight time?

Quincey caught a few words and peered at who Tora was sending the texts to. Ronzo. Well, that made sense. Gyu was a good guy. Maybe Tora was working on something important? Quincey was buzzing with questions by the time Tora drove them back to the penthouse. As Quincey opened the car door, and the door man hurried forward Tora spoke: 

“Got some stuff to do. Might be late.”

“Okay.” Quincey peered at Tora a moment, seeing the tense look on Tora’s face, as if daring Quincey to question him. He didn’t take the bait. Instead he instructed the doorman to grab his bags and take them upstairs. Then he got out of the car and turned to look at Tora. “I’m going to see if ‘Sorta Handsome’ wants to come over.”

“I’ll have one of my guys come over and keep a eye on ya.”

“Tora...I’m a grown ass man.”

“Yep. And ya grown ass is mine to keep safe. Someone will be over and they can stay outside the door. Don’t argue, Princess.”

“Fine. Want me to order you some food?”

“I’ll get something.”

“By ‘something’ Do you mean something other than your cigarettes?”

“Yes, Nanny Quincey.”

Tora snarled and rolled up the window and gave no warning as he sped down the street. Quincey watched him go. He needed to figure out who this lady was. Ronzo could help. He walked to the elevator, and shot a quick text, asking Gyu for information. There was the briefest of pauses and he got a answer. 

“Got that information days ago. He’s figuring out what to do with it now.” Was it the Chevy’s girl?

The next day was a “off” day for Tora. Officially, from clan business anyway. He still chose to hang out in the penthouse, which was perfectly fine with Quincey. He enjoyed the company, even if it was a grouchy tiger. Quincey often wondered what it would have been like to have a sibling. Or even a dad who was interested in him as more than a business asset. The news of Quincey breaking from his publisher broke just before noon, and was followed quickly by the news that that same publishing company was going out of business. Quincey had let himself feel bad for 3 minutes, then reminded himself what Morrison had done. Bad feeling gone.

Tora was still in a foul mood, sulking and glaring at his phone. Finally Gyu called and he spoke with him briefly, seemingly getting some information and Tora paced on the balcony. Quincey watched Tora open his contacts and then pause, staring at his screen, lost in thought for a few minutes. Finally he typed something out and then sent the message. Quincey waited, seeing what else he would do. But nothing interesting transpired, unless one counted Tora blowing smoke into the air like a neurotic dragon was interesting. Impressive maybe, but not of particular note.

Meanwhile Quincey wrote a few more paragraphs, and kept his mild buzz going by nursing the rest of the merlot bottle. It had been a lazy writing day. Nothing was coming to him easily today. The writer’s block was back, and it sat in his mind stubbornly. “Sorta Handsome” had been “busy” last night. Quincey was disappointed, even more so after his offer of going out to dinner tonight had been rejected as well. He had nowhere to go today. He hadn’t even bothered to put on pants today. Just a warm sweater and slippers. And his boxers. Whatever. Not like this was the first time he’d spent the day in his underwear. Tora changed into gym clothes sometime in the late afternoon and informed Quincey he would be heading out briefly then going downstairs into the gym. 

“I got this chapter finished, and I need you to listen to it.” Quincey said, stretching and yawned wide enough to hear his own jaw crack. 

“Sure.”

It was late when Tora reappeared. Quincey had grown a bit concerned when he hadn’t come back after three hours. Tora had answered he was downstairs in the gym, so he had dropped it. Let the Tiger burn off that steam. Quincey was still writing, having finished his wine a couple hours prior. Tora’s mood was dark, Quincey could tell, as soon as he opened the door. He was sweating, his hair still up. So he had pushed himself through a extensive work out, no surprise, but why was he still in a bad mood?

“Shower, and then I’ll listen to what ya wrote.” Tora grumbled, heading for the bathroom. Quincey waved his hand and focused back on the scene he was writing. It was getting spicy. He knew Tora would make comments, but if it got him talking then it was worth it. 

About 30 minutes later they were sitting on the couch, Tora seemed to have recovered a bit of his normal self, having flipped on the TV and put one of his most violent video games on. Quincey watched his friend destroy a room filled with zombies, and then spoke the next few lines out loud.

“....and as the pirate ran his soft, velvety palm down the stranger’s strong, leather clad arm....a sweet gasp escaped his...”

“Fucker never had to steer a ship or pull a rope in his life before?” Tora’s voice cut through the sentence. Quincey inwardly smiled. There was his friend. Still wasn’t sure how he did that. Look so focused on his game but still obviously paying attention to what Quincey was reading.

“How the hell is his palm still ‘soft and velvety?’” Tora added, eyes still trained on the zombies.

“Hand cream.” Quincey rolled his eyes. “Copious amounts of hand cream.”

Tora’s voice took on that perverted tone he got and a smirk spread across his face. 

“Hand cream huh? Nice.”

Quincey frowned just slightly, thinking maybe he should rework the scene, but now wanting to keep it on principle. Ugh. Maybe this chapter was trash. But he had to write something out, otherwise the day would have been a waste.

“Okay homeboy. If you’re trying to weasel your way out of beta reading, you’re succeeding.” He scratched a question mark next to the paragraph and added under his breath: “and keep that shit eating grin to yourself, you dirty minded pig.”

Tora snorted once and continued his game, completely un phased. Quincey rubbed his eyes. 

“Good lord what was I even thinking? Romance and literature are wasted on this Neanderthal....” Quincey frowned, listening to zombies growl and die on screen. Tora waited a moment and answered:

“You asked for feedback and I’m giving’ ya feedback. Get to work or I’m going home right now.” Quincey paused, realizing he might have touched a nerve. He sighed loudly. 

“Will you be patient for once?” Quincey asked. Trying to decide how far he could push his luck tonight. He wanted Tora to talk with him. He didn’t like his friend being in such a bad mood, the guy should be allowed some happiness after all. “Just two more pages and we’re done.”

Quincey watched Tora lean forward, concentrating on his game. For the past two days Quincey had been trying to piece together all that he had seen Tora do, trying to figure out who this mystery lady was. He decided to test the waters and hope Tora didn’t close down on him.

“Speaking of which.....” he started casually. “You didn’t manage to get that notebook back from the Chevy’s girl, did you?” Quincey didn’t look up, but felt his friend tense ever so slightly. He pressed on a bit more: “the one you told me about that day at the parking lot?”

Tora’s shoulders were tightening, but he wasn’t leaving and he didn’t say anything. Quincey pushed on, guessing he was on the right track. 

“I’m rather baffled to be honest. Ronzo said he got a hold of her address days ago. You could just get a few of your men to ‘enter’ her house and search for it.” Tora didn’t say a word. Quincey glanced up. Nothing. Hmmm. “If it’s just the notebook, why go through all this trouble?” He looked back down at his journal, fixing a small error. “Not that I’m condoning burglary or anything, mind you.” He said softly, and added: “this is just completely unlike you.” He tried to keep the note of worry from his voice.

“Tch.” Tora stared at his game. The large red “Game Over” screen flashed on the TV. Quincey frowned, unsure if he had been on to anything, or if he had just showed his hand for nothing. 

“Tch? Just tch?” He snorted, and let loose a bit: “my man, a rock is more loquacious than you!” Tora smirked. Quincey decided to leave things for now and he really did need to finish. “Look you need to use your earphones or I’m never going to finish this.....”

There was a knock at the door. Quincey blinked and looked up. Who was here at this hour? Wait.....he had given “Sorta Handsome” the address. Was he here?

Eager for a little distraction and maybe some cute ass, Quincey hurried to the door, and smoothed his hair. He clicked the door open and leaned against the door frame. 

“Hey stranger. Did you change your mind about our.....?”

He was staring at empty space. Sorta Handsome was about six feet tall. He was pretty sure he wouldn’t miss him standing there....

He glanced down. 

A pair of enormous brown eyes stared back at him. Doe eyes. Bright, clear. Frantic. She was tiny. Almost comically so. But beautiful. Her face was flushed and worried. 

“EXCUSE ME SIR!!” Quincey winced just slightly. Okay, that was loud and unexpected. He blinked once and took in the scene. She wasn’t the only one at the door. She was holding up a younger boy, blood speckled on his face and shirt. Well, he....wasn’t expecting this. 

“Um....HONEY?!” This was Tora’s wheelhouse, not his. He didn’t do blood. Blood and Quincey were not friends. Never would be. Panic grew. Oh, he was gonna vomit. 

“COULD YOU PUT YOUR STUPID GAME DOWN AND GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE.....” Quincey called, his voice rising to a panicked pitch. He would not vomit. He would not vomit. He smelled cigarette smoke. Was Tora ignoring him? Oh he would kill him himself. He would not vomit. Nope. That wine was good vintage, he was holding onto it. He would not waste it on his carpet. Nope. 

“LIKE IMMEDIATELY?!” Quincey added, fear adding a sharp tone to his voice. The woman watched him pleadingly, unsure. Quincey felt faint.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quincey finally meets Poppy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took a few artistic liberties here. I want to stress that I don’t know for sure what is going on in these characters heads, but I’m trying to give a different POV. 
> 
> As always, all characters belong to Lilydusk.

Quincey was going to be sick. 

He felt a cold sweat break out on his neck. His hands shook. 

The kid groaned and Quincey looked down in shock. He knew this kid.

“Benjamin?! What on earth did you get yourself into?”

The tiny woman was talking. Something about loosing her grip. He heard her voice cut through the shock in his head.

“Are you Mr. Quincey?” He reached out his arms automatically, praying Tora would take over this situation. She was asking if he was a doctor. Quincey turned on her, frantically, surely she didn’t mean for HIM to solve this? 

“HELL NO I’M NOT A DOCTOR!” He spat, feeling his stomach turn. Did he look like a doctor? Absolutely not! Oh god, he could see her eyes widen and she looked at him imploringly. Oh no.....nonononono. No. Nope. He didn’t do blood. Tora knew this. Where the hell was Tora? But he couldn’t take his eyes off the woman. She was speaking quickly, nervously. 

“.....was beaten up just now.......said you would know what to do....” Quincey whimpered softly, stomach rolling. He could taste bile rising in his throat. Oh no.....

“Please hold him.....I’m getting our bags from the lift landing.” The tiny woman said and transferred Benjamin’s weight to him. The world spun. Her heels made a soft clicking sounds as she hurried away. Oh, this was not good. Quincey felt his knees shake.

Blood. 

“W...wait!!” He called after her frantically. “Oh my God!” Did she seriously just LEAVE him like this? Oh blood. No. For a single moment he was a child again. His father’s face swam into view, his mouth set in a hard frown, eyes cold. Disappointed. Quincey’s head spun. 

“Mr. Quincey....I think I’m going to be sick...” Benjamin’s voice floated up to him. 

“DON’T YOU DARE!” Quincey heard his voice raise. NO! If anyone was going to get to be sick, it was going to be him! That was his right! His penthouse, his rules! And he was a Balthuman! He was allowed to be sick, damnit! Where was Tora?!

Apparently, Benjamin was going to ignore all social rules about who got the right to vomit and where. Yep, the kid absolutely had other ideas. As Quincey tried desperately to turn him, hoping to change the direction of his head away from him, he felt the boy’s body shake feebly. Then a wrenching sound. A wet splash. Quincey felt his soul leave his body. Gone. 

“OH GOD HE’S THROWING UP ALL OVER ME!! AND HE’S BLEEDING!! TORA!!!” Quincey’s voice reached a terrifyingly high pitch. Where was Tora?!

Quincey tried to ignore the smell. He was going to faint. He knew it. But he couldn’t faint. If he did he might fall into the vomit and he liked this cashmere sweater, goddamnit! 

“Student?” Tora’s voice came from over his shoulder. Calm. Collected. Non Judgmental. Quincey grasped for that voice and focused, forcing himself to pull it together. Student. Yes. The center. Student. 

“Oh no, he’s just an illegitimate son.....” Quincey hissed softly: “OF COURSE HE’S MY FREAKING STUDENT!” He snapped, trying to let Tora’s no nonsense comment fuel the indignity he felt. It gave him a anchor to hold onto, to ignore the smells that were making his heart pound. He could feel Tora staring at him, assessing the situation, then he reached over Quincey and gently tugged Benjamin out of his own clammy grip. Not a word. No rude comments. Quincey was silently thankful. He’d had enough remarks when he was younger. 

Quincey turned, seeing Tora heft Benjamin over his shoulders and walk down the hallway. 

“Wait, what should we do with him?” He asked. Tora didn’t pause. 

“Get the doctor.” 

Quincey blinked. Right. He had a doctor close at hand. “Oh right. Almost forgot. Clan protocol.....” he mumbled to himself and scrolled his phone contacts. 

The acidic scent of vomit filled his senses again and he paused, kneeling, unsure of his footing. Maybe Tora would come back and help him up. He could feel his heartbeat pounding in his ears. Vincent Balthuman’s cold eyes glared at him in his mind. 

“You’re weak, son.” Vincent’s venomous, mocking voice filled his mind. Quincey squeezed his eyes closed. He was a Balthuman. He was stronger than this. It was just blood. Just vomit. Just....blood.

“I’m back!” Quincey looked up from his kneeling position on the floor. The tiny woman was back. He took a moment to really look at her. She was young. Probably a couple years younger than him. Clear skin. Those enormous eyes. Quincey stared at those the longest. Like pools of water in winter, when brown leaves rested below the surface. A delicate nose and rosy lips. Wavy chocolate brown curls. 

“I got our bags! I found his phone too, in case you need to contact his parents. Is everything okay?” Her voice was urgent, caring. 

“Don’t worry.” Quincey found himself saying. He was in control. Control. Breathe. “Everything’s under control. I’m just trying to figure out how to clean up this....blood.” Once more, his stomach turned. Maybe not in control just yet. 

“Umm, I’ll write it down for you in a moment.” She was saying, concern written plainly on her features. 

“Brilliant.” He managed, a little faintly perhaps, but he meant it. 

What a stunning little thing. She reached out her hand and unthinkingly Quincey rested his hand in hers.

“I’m Poppylan, by the way. Nice to meet you, Mr. Quincey?” She went on, Quincey smiled, remembering his manners. After all, she was a lady, a nice lady and he was a gentleman. 

“Charmed.” She blinked looking startled. Well what did she expect? He was the one on the floor right now. Then he thought a moment. She was maybe half his size, no way she could help him up. Weakly he got to his feet, inhaling clean air. Better. Not great, but his stomach was settling. Vincent’s face retreated again. 

Poppylan looked around nervously, taking in her surroundings quickly then looked back at him. 

“Ah, I’d better check on Benjamin. Do you mind if I come in?” She asked, brows knit with concern. Quincey pulled himself out of his own mind and nodded once. 

“Of course not. He’s in the last bedroom down the corridor.” He knew that would be where Tora would take him. They’d had a fair share of injured clan members here. Sometimes it was Tora, sometimes someone Tora had to pull back after his father gave orders to be particularly brutal. 

“Thank you!” Poppylan said and quickly made her way past him, a tiny ball of frantic purpose. Just then Quincey recalled something important that he’d been meaning to get fixed. 

“OH! The lights in that room are faulty! Don’t be alarmed if you see my bodyguar....” he paused and watched her. A curvy figure in a black pencil skirt. Her ornate hair clip sparkled brightly. She looked neat, tidy and quite frankly, adorable. He pondered a moment. Would Tora scare her? He was a giant of a man compared to.....well, almost everyone else. This little woman would be easily overshadowed by him. Then again, most women stared at Tora with eyes that practically pleaded with him to stripe them down and take them against the nearest, convenient, vaguely flat surface. Maybe she wouldn’t be scared? Hmm. Quincey considered himself a bit of a romantic. Well, Tora wouldn’t bite. His friend was very gentle with ladies. Not that he would admit it. The Tiger of Ares Street had a reputation to keep, just like Quincey did. 

“Nah.... She’ll be fine. She’s totally his type.” Quincey thought, turning away a moment. Tora had a thing for curves and....well, not the typical clan fodder when it came to ladies. He didn’t like women who threw themselves at him. Classy not trashy, as Quincey had quipped at Tora one night. Tora had only grunted in agreement. Besides, Tora was probably cleaning up the kid now, and that should help calm her worry. 

“Umm. Mr. Quincey?” Poppylan’s soft voice called him. He looked towards her, she was half way down the hall, and her face was flushed. Was she okay? 

“I think you forgot to put your pants back on.” She said quickly, and then she was gone. 

“Pants....” he paused, what was she talking about. He glanced down. Feeling the slight draft. “Of course! That explains the writers block!”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quincey needs to get involved. Just a little bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quincey is such a delightful little bean. I adore his character and I hope you guys do too. 
> 
> As always, all characters belong to Lilydusk

Years ago Quincey had had the foresight to relocate Dr. Mack to the apartment across the street from his penthouse. The small, unassuming doctor had handled plenty of Clan injuries and for a price, didn’t ask questions. Ever. 

Vincent had growled about it, not liking the idea of his son appearing weak, well weaker. But had allowed it, Tora having mumbled quietly that if he had to take a bullet to save Quincey he wanted someone nearby to be able to fish it out. It was also a good thing in situations like this. 

Quincey scrolled through his contact list, deciding this was important and tapped the contact marked “First Aid.” Dr. Mack’s concerned voice answered him on the second ring.

“Young Master Quincey? How may I help you?” 

“Dr. Mack. I have a situation. A young kid. He got....roughed up a bit. He needs medical attention.” He walked to his room and put on the first pair of pants he could find, no good host should be walking about pantsless. He ran a hand through his hair, a nervous habit he had never fully gotten rid of. 

“Your address?” Quincey could hear Mack moving around, probably putting on a coat. “Any serious injuries? Bullet wounds? Broken bones?” Quincey felt a twist in his gut. Mack had seen everything. Too much, really. It was the doctor’s ability to keep his mouth shut that had allowed him to stay employed with the Balthumans for so long. Quincey wondered how he stayed so calm. Well, that was his job. 

“I’m not sure. There’s just blood. Might be a concussion.” 

“I see. Do you need anything?” Mack added after a moment. The doctor had seen Quincey’s reaction to blood several times before. 

“No. Also....” Quincey paused a moment and continued. “There’s a civilian here. A lady. She’s not part of our....business. Not a single word. She was never here. Understand?” Quincey allowed a touch of a threat enter his voice. Mack had never particularly reported to Vincent, but Quincey wasn’t one to let people get careless. Details were important. 

Besides, no reason to get a innocent little doll of a woman involved. She seemed, well, she seemed sweet. Mack coughed softly. 

“Of course, Young Master. She was never there. Shall I go to the doorman?”

“Yes. I’ll inform him.”

Quincey hung up then called downstairs giving Dr. Mack clearance to come up. Normally he would send Tora to fetch him, but he hadn’t come out of the room yet. Maybe he was cleaning the kid up. Speaking of clean up...

Quincey eyed the mess on the ground. Hmm. He could have someone clean it once Poppylan was gone. For now....

He pulled his large area rug over it and frowned. Wouldn’t get rid of the smell, but there was not a snow ball’s chance in hell he was cleaning that up himself. He had people for that. 

The door that the lady....Poppylan, what a cute name, had disappeared behind was closed. No sign of Tora. Was he still in there? Quincey frowned. He could hear the woman’s voice, soft. Ah well, maybe she was talking to Tora? 

She was his type. Hmmm. He took a moment to recall what she looked like and realized with a frown how flustered she had appeared. Poor thing looked like she had strolled a mile in Hell itself and ran back out. Quincey found himself in the kitchen, a tea kettle on the oven top, and a mug on the counter. The poor thing had looked frightened. She probably wasn’t much of a whiskey drinker, but surely she would take some tea?

He opened a jade green envelope, and broke the gold seal. Imported jasmine tea. Just the thing to sooth one’s nerves. She would like this. Quincey busied himself a few minutes, and poured the warm, not hot, water into the mug. Jasmine tea wilted if the water was too hot. He let the fragrant scent fill the air. Sweet, floral. A soft, but urgent knock on his door told him Mack had arrived. He placed the mug on the coffee table and opened the door. 

A short, dark haired man with glasses blinked owlishly at him. 

“Are you.....well?” Dr. Mack asked, his nose wrinkling. The vomit still on the floor. Stupid, useless rug.

“Yes. Yes. Wasn’t me.” Quincey added, ushering the doctor inside. “Come with me, please.”

As they approached the door Quincey heard Tora’s voice raised. 

“......cute little ass that I’ll get on your case for it!” Quincey blinked. Goddamnit Tora! He had sent a perfectly adorable little minx his way and now he was going to just ruin it with that mouth of his! One simply didn’t speak to sweet little ladies like that! Quincey reached for the door knob and turned it, hearing Poppylan’s voice nervously respond. 

“HELLOO....LOOK WHO’S HERE!” Quincey sang out, lightly nudging Dr. Mack forward and taking in the scene. Someone had cleaned Benjamin’s face. He was lying in the bed. Poppylan was standing next to it facing Tora. Who was....Quincey let out a snort. Being Tora. Arms crossed, straight back. Glaring. Why? Why was his friend such a damn dunce sometimes? He was scaring Poppylan!

Wait. Tora rarely showed his cards to strangers. Ever. Why was he....?

No.

YES!

Was this her? Was this the mystery woman? Oh, he couldn’t believe his luck. Not a chance that Tora would be this huffy over a stranger. It had to be. Quincey looked at Poppylan closely. She was blushing a radiant rose. Oh yes. It had to be. 

It was up to him to salvage this situation. Tora would owe him after this mess. Geez. 

“Thank goodness I have Dr. Mack relocated to the apartment across the street...” he said, filling the room with his voice, hoping Tora would loosen the hell up for a moment. “I don’t trust anyone else with my flu jabs.” He added, hoping that would answer any of Poppylan’s questions. Better to have her think he was paranoid then her to wonder why they needed a doctor so close. Maybe give his thick skulled friend a chance to save face. 

“Go on, Doc! Patch this kid up before he looses his life.”

“Got it, Master Quincey.” The doctor said, moving forward, eyes on the unmoving form in the bed. Quincey felt the tension in the room spike and he glanced at Tora. 

“And Honey, stay in here in case I faint, would you?” He added, giving the tiny woman a chance to escape. Cute she was, but maybe unprepared to navigate a moody tiger. 

“Christ! Stop callin’ me-“ Tora snapped, turning angry golden eyes on Quincey. Oh yeah, this had to be the mystery lady. Tora showed about two emotions per day, annoyance and more annoyance. Flustered anger was new. Quincey felt like singing, or at least reciting a sonnet. 

“AH!” Poppylan said, turning a relieved face towards him. Color bloomed over her cheeks like water color paint over parchment. Quincey inwardly grinned. She was enchanting. He could see why Tora liked her. “You called a doctor over! That’s a terrific idea!”

She was quick on the uptake. Good. She saw her out. Quincey put on a calm smile, the smile he used to woo his own conquests. He could use it now. See, TORA? PLAY NICELY WITH THE TINY WOMAN! He wanted to shout. Instead he modulated his voice to a warm, pleasant level. 

“Poppy, is it?” He asked her gently. Yes, she was flustered. She’d had a rough night. 

“Ah! Yeah!” She took a step towards him and he smiled easily. Yes. Eyes that were bright, sharp. Hmm. There was a small spark in there too. 

“I made you some hot tea. It’s in the living room.” Quincey watched Tora’s body pull straight and he glared daggers at him. Quincey ignored it. “Hang on for a bit, would you? I’ll put something together for us to eat if you’re hungry.” He added. He was hoping she would stay a bit longer. Maybe he could get Tora cooled off enough to maybe.....maybe make this night a success for his friend. 

“Oh, I’m good. But if you don’t mind, I’d like to wait around to make sure Ben is okay. Before heading home?” Poppy spoke quickly. Still flustered. But recovering. Quincey nodded. 

“Of course! Stay as long as you want!” He offered. Dr. Mack was examining Ben’s head, gently prodding with careful fingers. “In fact, let me see your phone. I’ll give you my number. I’ll make sure to update you.” He explained, taking her phone from her shaking hand and typing in his number casually before handing it back to her. Tora was radiating annoyance. Well too bad, Tiger. 

“Thank you! Then, I’ll just....wait outside.” Poppy said, her face pinched with worry. Quincey let her walk past and him and he shut the door. Turning he looked right at Tora. His friend was looking out the window, tension written into every muscle on his body. Tread carefully....

“She seems like a nice girl.” Quincey offered. Tora didn’t respond. “Did you clean up Ben?” Tora nodded once. “Thank you.”

Silence. Hmm. Maybe this wasn’t as simple as he had hoped. Dr. Mack was speaking softly to himself.

“Looks like he might need a few stitches....” Quincey turned away from the bed quickly, not willing to risk his stomach again. Tora wasn’t talking. Quincey watched him closely. His instinct screamed that this was the lady. It had to be. Tora was a emotionally constipated brute at times, but he was positive this lady meant something. A few minutes passed in silence. Finally he spoke: 

“I left her some tea. She looks like she’s had a very rough night. Rather cute, don’t you think?” Tora glanced at him, heat bubbling just below the surface. Quincey smiled faintly. “Why don’t you go check in on her? I was going to call to have someone clean up the front room soon anyway.”

Tora grunted and pushed himself off the wall. His eyes narrowed just slightly. 

“Be nice, she doesn’t look like she’s used to...any of this.” Quincey added. The thought hadn’t occurred to him until this moment, but how did these two meet? 

Well, they would make a cute pair. Tora, Mister Tall, Brooding Tiger of Ares Street, and this itty bitty curvy pixie of a girl. Where the hell had Tora found this little cinnamon roll? She didn’t seem like the type to frequent any place the Clan called their territory. She was too innocent. Tiny too....

How exactly would that work, with proportions? Quincey allowed his mind to take a stroll through the gutter for a brief moment. Tora was....well, a bigger man. This Poppylan was awfully small. He thought a few moments. He hoped she was open to possibly taking a yoga class. No way would she be able to bend that much. Quincey thought back to his own writing. He was particularly proud of The Secret Garden novel he had written years ago. There was one scene that came to mind, and one page 312.....

Tora must have seen the wheels turning because his friend growled: 

“Drop it.” 

“Drop what?” Quincey asked innocently. “My pants? Not likely. But if you ask nicely....” Tora pushed past him roughly. “Play nice!”

Tora shut the door behind him, and Quincey frowned. He didn’t like the idea of leaving Poppy....well, not alone. Tora could....be scary. But he could also be incredibly kind. Well, he could give them a few minutes. 

Dr. Mack continued his work quietly and finally wrapped Ben’s head with a snowy gauze. 

“Well, he will live. He’s going to have a scar. I’m sure his head will hurt for several days. Nothing some aspirin won’t fix. His nose is not broken. But I think his left eye will be black by tomorrow. No loose teeth. He is lucky. It is hard to say, but he most likely has a mild concussion. Let him rest. Keep a eye on him.”

“Of course.” Quincey said absently. Dr. Mack stood and Quincey joined him, walking back to the living room. He was careful to keep a calm face.

“Thanks for coming down this late at night, sugar.” He said, putting some charm into his voice. “You’re the best!” The doctor only nodded, yawning slightly. It was late. 

“Not a problem, I’ll take my leave now, Master Quincey.” He said, and headed to the door. 

“Cheerio!”

Quincey looked at Tora and Poppy. Well, this was interesting. Tora was sitting on the couch, looking very comfortable. Poppy looked like she had just stood quickly. Her face was still flushed. What had he said to her??

“Oh, Tora. You’re here. So you came to check on our guest? How unlike you.”

“No! He was just here to discuss some...matters with me.” Poppy stammered. She took a step away from the couch, and to Quincey’s undiluted glee, Tora’s arm shot out quickly and his hand latched around her wrist, holding her gently in place. Poppy froze. 

“Wait.” Tora spoke quietly. Quincey was positive he was witnessing one of the single most important events in human history. Tora was.....well, interested in someone. Oh, this was cute. He might die from diabetic shock, from the sweetness alone, but no way he would miss this.

“So what if I came out to check on ya?” Tora asked softly, just loud enough for Quincey to hear. Before his eyes, Poppy’s face went from soft pink to bright cherry red. 

Oh.

My.

God.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quincey has questions that need answers. Again, keep in mind this is speculation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had fun with this chapter. I’m glad I finally get to write about Quincey actually talking with Poppy. 
> 
> As always, all characters belong to Lilydusk

Poppy’s face flushed and Quincey could barely contain his glee. Oh, this was....too damn cute. He looked at Tora, his body language relaxed, but his hand was clutching onto Poppy’s wrist firmly. Poppy glanced nervously at Tora. The tension was almost unbearable.

“Ahem.” Quincey cleared his throat and decided to see if he could help Tora out. Play dumb. Play dumb. Well, curious. Curious would be easier. Yes. That would work. “I didn’t know you two knew each other?”

“OH WE DON’T!” Poppy hurried to assure him. This was interesting. She stammered, still red in the face. “I mean, we do. But we’ve only known each other a few days!” He’d heard that tone of voice before, that slight change in vocal pitch. Did....did she like Tora too? Quincey made a mental note of that and then glanced back at Tora. Nothing. 

“Ooh! But why is Tora holding on to your hand?” Quincey asked, adopting a innocently inquisitive tone. “Kind of like his life depends on it, I might add.” If it was possible, Poppy’s cheeks got redder. She liked that? Oh this tiny woman was dancing with a Tiger!

“Um.....well.....” she seemed to be thinking quickly. But Tora stunned Quincey by finally speaking. 

“Because it’s small, and cute.” Tora replied, lifting said small, cute appendage just slightly. Tora’s voice had shifted just enough from the normal husky tone, to warmer. Like pouring hot fudge over ice cream. Quincey felt the heavens part, pouring down golden light to bless this moment, cherubs sweetly singing. This was happening. It was real. Quincey’s eyes locked into their joined hands, Poppy’s delicate hand almost disappearing into Tora’s. Well, anyone’s hand would look small in Tora’s. Quincey eyed his friend, who gazed back impassively. This was priceless. Tora’s posture was calm, relaxed, but he was absolutely not letting go of her hand. Yep. He liked her. Loved? Was it too soon for that? He had about 7,000 questions he NEEDED answers to! He blinked and decided in a snap, yes. They would make a adorable pair. 

Once again, Quincey found himself wanting to hand Poppy a gym membership and instructions to take some Yoga classes. She was so itty bitty!

“Oh right!” She suddenly spoke, beet red and looking shaky. Maybe the adrenaline from the night was wearing down. “Is everything okay with Ben? Is it okay if I leave him to you now?” She looked at Quincey with wide eyes. “Since you’re his teacher and all....” Her voice was edged with exhaustion.

Poor thing looked like she was trying desperately to ignore the tiger who got her hand in his giant paw. Quincey was almost beside himself. He wanted details so badly, but was painfully aware how fast Tora could close a conversation. No. He needed to be careful and gather information. It wasn’t every day Tora allowed anyone to sneak in under his walls.

“Ah! I’m not a teacher actually!” Quincey answered with a smile, switching into the voice he used for interviews. “I just volunteer at Ben’s center!” Keep things light. Do not scare her anymore than she already is. Rather than give her a chance to question anything he rushed on, relaxing his own posture quickly. “And thankfully, he’s fine. The injury wasn’t too serious.” Quincey paused, once more taking in her appearance and answered truthfully and sincerely. “You look like you’ve have a rough night. So leave the rest to me.” He watched her shoulders relax just a little. 

She must have had quite a experience tonight. You could just tell, if you knew how to look. This Poppy girl was brave. Feisty. He could just feel it. She was doing her best to still stay on top of this situation and he admired that determination in her. Vaguely he wondered what she did for a living. 

She needed a vacation, she probably also needed sleep. Or at the very least, she needed to change out of her heels and into something comfortable. No doubt this night was going longer than she had expected. He doubted she had ever skirted this close to danger, even if she didn’t known it. Where had she met his father’s enforcer? Tora was...easily one of the most dangerous men in all of Narin. This angelic little woman looked like she belonged in a fairytale, not in a clan owned penthouse with them.

“Well that’s a relief!” She smiled, and Quincey was treated to a truly radiant expression. “Then I’ll get going now!” Quincey frowned and considered the time, painfully aware of what could happen to women who were alone at night.

“Which reminds me....do you need a lift back?” He questioned. “It’s getting late, and you’re all alone. I guess that’s kinda dangerous...” He didn’t add that she was keeping company with the creature that lurked in the darkness. That said creature seemed to like her. 

“It’s fine.” Poppy smiled softly. “I’ll just get a cab...”

TAKE THE HINT AND BE A GENTLEMAN, TORA! Quincey felt like shouting. I AM ASKING YOU TO PLEASE STEP UP AND DO THE CHIVALROUS THING!

“I’ll take you.” Tora answered, putting out his cigarette and standing quickly. He towered over her. Quincey smirked slightly and turned wide, concerned eyes to Tora. “Cabs don’t come here at night.” Quincey laughed to himself. That wasn’t entirely true. If a Balthuman wanted a car at midnight, then there would be a car ready to go at midnight, Tora just wanted her for himself. Not that Quincey would dare to say that in this delicate moment. “Road’s dark, and the corners are too sharp.....for them anyway.”

“NO! It’s fine! No need to trouble yourself!” Poppy insisted quickly, having seemed to just accept that Tora wasn’t going to drop her hand. Quincey watched this with the same intensity one would watch a fast paced tennis match. 

“Who said anything about trouble?” Tora asked calmly, a devilish smirk beginning to form. Well, he could be charming if he wanted to be. Apparently he wanted to be. 

“I mean, Quincey offered to take me back....so I can just go along with that...” Poppy countered, her lips trembling as she spoke. 

“Yeah, and guess who does the driving for him?” Tora answered, his grin growing wider. Yes! Good Tora! Now he was trying!

“Actually that’s a terrific idea!” Quincey jumped in. Perfect! A long, romantic car ride alone! This was wonderful! And it was a beautiful, clear night. Now if Tora could just behave... 

Poppy looked like she wanted to run out the door. Quincey opted to overshare. Maybe she wouldn’t run screaming into the night.

“Don’t worry Poppy!” He blurted, hoping to calm her. “He may look like a brute. But he’s really quite harmless....” oh god, where did that come from? Damnit, he couldn’t just let her dismiss his friend so easily. “To cute little females anyway....” Why did that come out? Slow down, Quincey. Tora needs you to be a good wingman! He laughed nervously. Well Tora had offered. Good thinking, my trusty sidekick, way to make yourself useful! Please let him figure this out. 

Poppy shot him a nervous glance and he put on a bright smile. She had to know Tora wouldn’t harm her. Now if the big lug could just NOT LOOK SPOOKY FOR FIVE MINUTES she would be able to see that as well. Right?

“TOODLELOO!” He grinned, waving at Tora, who only arched a brow at him. “Drop by again some time. I gave you my number earlier, so just call me.” He actually hoped she would call him. She seemed like a bright lady. Maybe she would be nice to get to know. 

Quincey strained to hear as she answered in a soft voice, something about doing all she could. He frowned just slightly. Well, he wasn’t sure what she had had to deal with tonight. Please be nice, Tora. Don’t scare her too badly. He watched her jerk her hand away from Tora and glance back at him. Then her eyes traced once more around the room, as if trying to memorize something. Quincey casually picked up her half drunk mug of jasmine tea and smiled at her warmly, then shot Tora a look. His friend’s golden eyes stared back. 

Quincey knew Tora better than most people. He could read him easily if he looked carefully. Tora was....well, he seemed happy, but guarded. Whatever this little bundle of cuteness was to him, Quincey mentally made a note of it. She was special. Tora had decided she was, and Quincey wasn’t going to question that. As Tora opened the door for Poppy and let her walk out past him, Quincey watched his hand twitch just slightly, as if he had wanted to touch her in passing but thought better of it. 

He was happy for his friend. Quincey waved his hand once, catching Tora’s gaze. He raised his eyebrows, a unspoken question: “this one, huh?”

Tora paused and let that mask of his drop for the smallest of moments. A smirk played over his features and then it was gone. Poppy was walking quickly down the hall and Tora’s tense gaze followed her. He was....head over heels for her. Tora shut the door softly and Quincey listened to his light steps following her. 

Well.........

That had been.....informative. He frowned a moment. Tora was playing a dangerous game. Very dangerous.

Quincey stood a moment in silence then took out his phone, he pressed a number and waited a single ring. 

“Cleaners.” Was the sharp response. 

“I need a cleaning detail to my penthouse. Immediately.” Quincey answered and hung up, not waiting for a reply. In as little at 20 minutes, a few people would show up at his door ready to make any form of mess disappear, be it dust or a dead body. No questions asked. Well, at least it was just vomit and a bit of blood. Tora and his little lady would be long gone before they arrived. No danger there.

He walked to a window and stared out at the city lights. Tora had never shown much interest in anyone. A few casual one night stands. That’s it. Never a real interest. Quincey sighed and then allowed reality to sink in. Tora was Vincent’s favored enforcer, trained from a young age to obedience and ruthlessness. Quincey had heard his father refer to Tora as a dog, a term that made Quincey grind his teeth. 

His father was brutal, heartless and calculating. He would never tolerate Tora’s loyalty possibly being split. Never. Not Tora. Other clan members may have relationships, but they weren’t Vincent’s personal attack dog. Quincey paced restlessly, running his hand through his hair again. Tora wasn’t stupid. Far from it. He was good with details and never slipped up. He had to understand this. 

Poppylan

Poppy....

She could find herself with a target on her head simply because Tora had a interest in her and by no fault of her own. But there was more to it then that, wasn’t there? Quincey stopped and considered things carefully. There couldn’t be two girls in such a short time. Which meant this girl had to be the one with the infamous notebook.....

Nothing was ever simple he reflected, walking to his door when he heard a soft knock. The cleaners poured into his penthouse. Two men in grubby worn clothes. 

“Just the floor, under the rug.” Quincey gestured, and stepped out of their way, knowing there was no need to explain things further. He watched with detached interest as they lifted the large rug and began spraying cleaning solutions on the floor. He frowned, and turned away, still thinking things over. 

Tora knew what his father would do if he found out Poppy was involved. As far as Quincey could tell, only Gyu knew about Poppy. Tora was keeping this one close to the chest. Hmm. 

He stared blanking out his windows, not really paying much attention, just watching Narin’s lights sparkling below him. No sound in the apartment except the diligent noise of the cleaners. 

“Done, Young Master.” A gruff voice called to him and he turned. The two men bowed slightly as they left, no waiting for or expecting a thank you. It had been along night. And it wasn’t over. 

After some consideration he opened a text and messaged Gyu. NOT the group text. No, he had to talk to Gyu privately. The guy never seemed to sleep, but one never knew. 

“I need to know what Tora is doing with this Poppy.” He sent the simple message. Childhood events had bonded Tora, Gyu and himself closely together, and if there was one person Quincey trusted almost as much as Tora it was Gyu. 

No answer immediately. Well maybe he was asleep. Quincey looked into the back room. Ben was sleeping. He watched him breathe easily and closed the door. He would send him home tomorrow. Hopefully whatever the kid had done to get hurt he wouldn’t go back and do it again.

Well, no chance he was sleeping now. He picked up his journal and opened it to a blank page. He sighed, trying to focus but failing.

How could he help? The hopeless romantic in him desperately wanted this to work. Tora needed this. Some happiness. His phone beeped. Not a message. A voice call.

“What do you need to know? You know I’m not going to turn on him.” Gyu answered. Loyalty like this wasn’t bought, it was earned. Gyu was loyal to Tora before anyone else. It was a comforting thought. 

“Do you think I’d want that? I’m worried one or both of them will get hurt.” Quincey responded quietly. Gyu was silent a moment.

“I don’t know much.....right now.”

Quincey stood up and listened. 

“It’s a start.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quincey being Quincey. Unsupervised Quincey. Quincey in his natural habitat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a silly filler chapter because things will probably get darker soon. 
> 
> Thank you to my ladies in the MPL RAMBLING chat.
> 
> Shout outs specifically to Lauren, Tina, Ashley, Bly, Sara and Patty.
> 
> As always, all characters belong to Lilydusk

Quincey had grilled Gyu over the phone for just over a hour. He had demanded to confirm who this Poppy was, and Gyu had sent him her picture, telling him Tora had snapped it and he wasn’t sure how he’d done so. Quincey frowned. Yes. The “Chevy’s girl” and Poppy were one and the same. 

It became abundantly clear to Quincey that the chances of this Poppy girl coming into contact with a man like Tora was astronomically low in normal circumstances. And yet.....

And yet.....

Here she was, blithely dancing around one of the most dangerous men in all of Narin. There was playing with Fire and then there was taunting it. Not for nothing was Tora the Tiger of Ares Street. Gyu was as mystified as Quincey.

“Not sure exactly how she got involved, Quincey.” Gyu had said hesitantly. “Tora sent me a picture and asked me to find her. I got what I could based off a picture and I found out he had seen her again....”

“What? What do you mean?” Quincey asked sharply. 

“Well, he sent me the picture a few days ago. Then he showed up at work a couple nights ago, the Black Swan. He was waiting for someone. But he left early. But he told me he found her.” Quincey blinked. How many places did Gyu work? Hadn’t he just told him recently he worked at Chevy’s? And some little diner? And a coffee shop? Didn’t the clan pay their tech guys better? Apparently not. Quincey made a mental note to perhaps funnel Gyu some funds. 

“What did he tell you, exactly.” Quincey insisted. Gyu was silent for a moment then:

“You’re not going to say anything to anyone, right?” Quincey felt a stab of hurt for a moment then frowned. Well, he couldn’t exactly blame Gyu. He was a Balthuman after all, but he had hoped Gyu would know better.

Then again, Vincent was well known for his vicious and cruel tendencies. If something slipped and Gyu was ever implicated, well.....his death wouldn’t be fast. Quincey took a deep breath. 

“Gyu. You know what Tora means to me. I don’t know what this girl means to him, but I assure you I only want to make sure no harm comes to either of them.”

Silence. 

“He said she might have something Vincent and his men are after, and she wasn’t part of our world. Looks like she’s a civilian. He didn’t want to mess anything up.”

“Anything else?” Gyu had then explained the motion detector camera that Tora had requested Gyu acquire for him, and how he had explained how to position it. It would only record motion. Nothing else. So it wasn’t a live cam. 

Quincey was silent for a long while, thinking carefully. Tora had already told him about the notebook, he was well aware what would happen if that thing saw the light of day. 

No matter who’s hands that information wound up in, the results would be the same. Explosive. Violent. It would rip the city of Narin to shreds. Well, the underworld......mostly. 

And this girl....

Poppy....

She would be caught up in that war. 

Quincey closed his eyes, rubbing them tiredly. Why did Tora have to pick this girl to be interested in? Did he.....well, he knew he was interested in her.

Did he love her?

“You there, Quincey?” Gyu asked nervously. He had been lost in thought for a while.

“Yes. I’m here. Just thinking.” Quincey answered. “Gyu, what do you think....Tora wants with her?”

“You mean other than the notebook?” Gyu asked and let out a soft sigh. “Dunno. She’s a cutie pie. Maybe he likes her? He seems pretty hell bent on keeping her safe.” 

Quincey looked at the twinkling lights of the city, wondering if it was just part of a con. But...

No.

He always had good instincts when it came to matters of the heart and now was not the time to doubt this. He saw the way he looked at her.

He had spent time getting ready. He had spent time doing his hair. Worn cologne. Spent 49 minutes and 32 seconds in the bathroom! Made a date at the Black Swan, and when those plans had not worked out, he took her to a place that he rarely took anyone. He had taken her to one of his safe havens. To Alice. 

He had called her cute. Well, he had called her hand cute. And small. That had to count for something right?? 

Still.....

“Gyu?”

“Yeah?”

“Tora ever ask you about jackfruit?”

“What?”

“That weird fruit that smells kinda musky?”

“I know what jackfruit is, Quincey. But why would Tora need to know about it?”

“I don’t know. He was asking about it and what the smell was like....”

“I mean, some people like it. Place I used to work at made vegan tacos with it.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Weird shit. I mean, I tried it. It was good, don’t know if I’d buy it for myself.”

“Hmm. Well, I don’t know.” Quincey sighed and he glanced at the clock. Tora was still gone. He hadn’t thought to ask where Poppy lived, but hopefully they weren’t having a hard time getting there.

“Gyu. This conversation didn’t happen. And as far as you are concerned, unless I say otherwise, I don’t know about Poppy. I’ve never heard of her. She doesn’t exist.”

“I know.” Gyu answered. “I already told Tora. Her secret is safe with me.” There was a slight pause. 

“What is it?” Quincey asked. 

“Well, she seems like a pretty upstanding citizen. Not even a parking ticket on her record. Good student.” Gyu said in a rush, then hesitated before adding: “I hope Tora knows what he’s doing.”

“Me too.” Quincey answered, nervousness bubbling up in his chest. 

Quincey had hung up, and about two hours later, and Tora had posted something to the group chat. A bento box. With a tiger rice ball. Not a single explanation. What the hell? Was this Poppy’s doing? Then he received a single text from Gyu.

“Tora wants to head to her office tonight. He thinks the notebook is there. Don’t know how late we are going to be. Will try and update you.”

Quincey sighed, feeling a headache beginning to form. Well, Tora was good at his job. Flawless, if his father was to be believed. If the notebook was in the office, Tora would find it. Which would be.....good? He wasn’t so certain anymore. It would be a long night. The likelihood of Tora encountering any trouble at a small civilian office was almost zero, but one could never be sure. Still.....Tora was one of the people Quincey trusted with his life, it was normal to be worried. 

On the nights Tora wasn’t expecting to return to the penthouse or the building, he had one of his own men stationed nearby. Tora gave Vincent no reason to not entrust Quincey’s safety to him. He took bodyguard duty seriously. Quincey stared out of the window, lost in thought. His eyes were starting to feel heavy when he noticed the single black town car pull up across the street, one person get out and lean against the car. Looked like Tora had sent someone to watch Quincey after all. 

So he wouldn’t be returning. 

With no reason to believe Tora would be anything but late, he walked to the back room, checking once on Ben, and then walked to his own room, striping his sweater off and throwing it carelessly on the floor, pulled his pants off and flopped into his bed, asleep within moments of his head touching the pillow.

Quincey woke the next morning feeling a bit better. For about 30 seconds. Loud sounds coming from the kitchen had him sitting up quickly and looking around. Hastily he pulled his pants back on and walked down the hall.

Ben was awake, looking very bruised, very groggy and very ill tempered. 

“Didn’t want to wake you up.” Ben said, having the good sense to look apologetic. Quincey only waved his hand. 

“How is your head?” He asked, frowning as he pulled eggs and bread from the fridge. Ben frowned. 

“Hurts. I have stitches?”

“You remember what happened?”

Ben slowly recounted the events of the previous night and Quincey listened, confused as to why Poppy would be outside club Miracle in the first place, let alone need Ben to pass a note to a old man inside the club. He didn’t offer clarification, but made sure Ben ate, had a chance to clean up, gave him some painkillers and sent him downstairs to a car he called with a warning to avoid the club. Ben had looked sheepish and nodded, a sullen look on his face.

Finally alone, Quincey checked his phone. Two messages. 

First one, a text, from Gyu:

“Wasn’t at her office. Tora safe.” It was sent at 4:17am. 

The second from his publicist: this one a voicemail.

“There is a very insistent man named Mr. Lam who has been trying to get in touch with you. I know you said you wanted a break but if you find some time in a day or so, call me.” Received at 9:48am.

Quincey yawned, unconcerned. What else was new? People wanted his attention all the time and he had earned a fucking break for once.

With that thought in mind, he glanced at the clock. 10:30am. 

No sign of Tora. He probably was sleeping in that box he called a “apartment.” Quincey rolled his eyes. Tora preferred what Quincey had generously called a “spartan” look. In reality it pained him to see his friend care so little about his surroundings. Vincent Balthuman paid his enforcer well. Very well. Why Tora refused a proper dwelling was a mystery to Quincey. He yawned and checked his schedule.

Nothing to speak of unless he wanted to speak to his publicist about that Mr. Lamb. Lan? Lang?

Whatever. 

He drew a bath, and flipped through his collection of sheet face masks. He was going to look dreadful if he didn’t take care of his complexion. Besides, it paid to keep on top of things and one simply didn’t ignore skin care. When was the last time he had scheduled a facial treatment and full body massage? Was it more or less than two weeks ago? He would have to consult his appointment book. Maybe he could try that new fire cupping treatment everyone had been raving about. Looked exciting. Maybe he could convince Tora to try it first? Quincey opened the group chat marked “Quincey’s Angels” and stared at that bento box again. It had to be Poppy. Not a single chance it wasn’t. It was a pretty cute little presentation. He looked at it carefully. If it was her she was clever. Tiny little fish and starfish as well. The Tiger had long dark hair too. WHO MADE STUFF LIKE THIS ANYMORE?? Quincey actually felt a small stab of jealousy. He frowned and focused on his self care day. 

“SOME of us aren’t lucky to look like a sculpture lovingly crafted by Italian renaissance artists....” Quincey frowned to himself, a wry smile on his face. The irony of Tora being......well, TORA, was not lost on him. 

The man could have any man or woman in Narin in his bed if he only pointed, and he never seemed to use it to his advantage. Well, not often. Tora was no angel. 

Unless you considered Lucifer. 

Quincey sighed, considered several bottles of scented oils and foaming baths. No, the title of Devil belonged to his own father.

Vincent.

The game Tora was playing was enough to make Quincey’s stomach twist with anxiety. Subconsciously he touched the faint, pale line running over his eye. He knew this game all too well. 

Quincey was aware of what the Clan thought of him. The spoiled child, the flamboyant one. The irresponsible one. The PlayBoy. 

He was spoiled, that he could admit. Vincent may not approve of Quincey’s life choices, but the Balthumans had a reputation to keep. It would not due for any child of Vincent’s to appear as anything less than a Crown Prince. He wasn’t complaining about the luxury. He’d be monumentally stupid to be complaining about that. But there were times when the penthouse felt like a gilded cage.

Times like right now. When he realized he had almost no power except his silence to help his friend. A friend who deserved more than he ever got. A friend who deserved to be loved. To find love. To feel valued. To have a person who cared enough about him to make him little bento boxes.

He needed wine.

It was too early for this.

Self care thoughts were the only thing concerning him as he chose a green tea and matcha sheet mask, pulled his hair up into a small bun, and slipped into the lavender scented bubble bath.

About two hours later he was sitting on the couch, pen in hand, frowning darkly at a blank page. His mind refused to budge. Writer’s block again. He glanced down quickly. No, his pants were on this time. 

The notes from last night weren’t helpful. He had been trying to move this damn plot for the past hour and all he had to show for it was a paragraph that sounded like it had been written by a love sick teenager. He was better than this.

He refused to use the word “throbbing” again.

No matter how tempting it was.

Stupid “Sorta Handsome” canceling their dinner date. 

Not for the last time Quincey wondered if he needed to hire a new editor. Someone to work more closely with him. He needed clear eyes and a fresh mind. Tora was....helpful but not always available to sit for hours on end. 

He could hear the clock in the kitchen ticking. 

The sound of the air conditioning unit humming. 

He could hear his own breathing.

Seconds kept ticking away.

He stood, annoyed with himself.

Fuck.

What time was it?

Barely 2pm. 

He looked at his phone. No messages.

Quincey paced, agitated. Where was Tora and his stupid, violent video games to make noise for him when he needed background sound?

He looked around the silent room. Well, he could always use the expensive surround sound system he had installed last year. It didn’t get much use anymore.

Not since the time he had decided to do some “research” for his next romance and forgot the sound was cranked up rather loudly. The tenants below him could be forgiven for assuming Quincey had decided to indulge in some rather hedonistic pleasures with the sounds coming from his penthouse. Tora had walked in from a late job and silently crept up behind him, as Quincey watched the screen, in complete truth, taking notes.

“Are normal people supposed to be able to bend like that?” An amused, but curious voice asked over his shoulder.

Quincey did not want to admit the sound that had emerged from his throat had been high pitched and sounded rather like one would imagine a mouse being tortured would sound like. 

Tora never let him forget it. Kept threatening to bring it up at book signings and business meetings. Quincey had threatened, with no malice in his voice, to throw Tora’s gaming station off the balcony. Quincey grinned. Tora was a good friend.

Still, he needed to make some sort of progress. He hated feeling useless. Maybe if he just cranked some music and focused on something else for a while.....

Never one to really do his own menial chores, he sighed and found the tiny silver remote used for the sound system. He picked a station at random and then went to find a dust rag.

Quincey sang into his feather duster, gliding down the hall in his socks. In his own world, his eyes closed, belting out lyrics to a adoring audience, in a arena that lived only in his mind. It didn’t matter, the fans loved him. He stopped in the kitchen and struck a pose, mind surrounded by the music.

Sometime about 30 minutes ago the station had switched to “Girl Power Hour” and Quincey embraced being a “Single Lady” to belting out “Toxic” and everything in between, improvising his own lyrics as he went. This was no different. His fans loved him.

“Quinceylious definition make them boys go loco. They want my treasure, to they get their pleasures from my photo.” He sang, mentally enjoying the ridiculous lyrics. But hell, maybe he should sing this at karaoke one night.

“You could see me, you can’t squeeze me. I ain’t easy, I ain’t sleazy. I got reasons why I tease ‘em! Boys just come and go like seasons. Quinceylious! So delicious!” Quincey executed a perfect bend and snap move, much to the delight of his imaginary fans. He spun, strutting past the large windows, his feather duster microphone held aloft. 

“But I ain’t promiscuous. And if you was suspicious, all that shit is fictitious. I blow kisses...”

Quincey twirled mid hip pump and blew a kiss, opening his eyes briefly. 

Tora’s golden, amused eyes stared at him. 

Quincey shrieked, tossing the feather duster and flailing as only a person caught singing shirtless to pop music can. 

Tora didn’t move, a smirk played on the edge of his mouth, shadows under his eyes. He hadn’t slept and Quincey frowned then recovered his dignity just slightly. He fumbled in his pocket and clicked the music off. He smoothed his hair, then slightly arched a eyebrow. 

Tora crossed his arms. 

“You realize now of course, I’m going to have to kill you.” Quincey said, imitating his father’s voice, mock seriousness playing across his features.

Tora took a single step foreword. Pulling a sharpie from his back pocket.

“NO! I HAVE A MEETING TOMORROW!!” Quincey howled and bolted down the hallway. “DON’T YOU DARE!”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quincey going about his business, doing some reflection.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We don’t get to see Quincey doing much. We know Tora drives him around a lot. We know he has to occupy his hours somehow. I put this together and borrowed some friends to meet Quincey in his world. I’m also trying to work within the webtoon timeline as I write these chapters.
> 
> A shout out to my ladies in the MPL RAMBLING chat. You ladies give me life.
> 
> As always, all characters belong to Lilydusk.

Quincey stared at the proposed cover art for his new pirate novel and let out a deep sigh. It was like the worst bodice ripping disaster covers one normally saw from the late 70s, but in a neon color scheme. He thought he would never see a neon pink captain’s hat with a highlighter yellow feather in it, and yet, here it was.

It was far too early for this nonsense. He stood in the brightly lit office and frowned. He paced once and came back to his chair, dropping into it with a huff.

No. Absolutely not.

His manager, well publicist , Ashley wore a soft smirk on her face, her deep red, almost black lipstick making quite the statement against her pale skin. The office they sat in was much like the woman who worked here. A sharp contrast of colors, deep charcoal grays, splashes of bright red and purples. A creamy orchid grew from a jade colored pot on the corner of her sleek, glass top desk. 

Quincey rolled his eyes, and dropped the glossy mock up on her desk.

“Really, Ashley?” Quincey asked, crossing his legs and leaning back in his chair. “This is the tacky nonsense you want me to put my name on?”

“No. Of course not.” Ashely grinned. “It was so unbelievably bad I thought you might get a laugh from it.” She took a sip from her bottle of mineral water and picked up the mock up with a laugh. “Come on, Quincey. We’ve worked together long enough. I know your style.”

Quincey let out a sigh of relief. He didn’t want to have to find another publicist. It was hard enough finding someone willing to work with his strict standards for privacy. Ashley has been rather helpful, and didn’t ask too many questions. Their working relationship was a good one, and he would hate to loose that. In fact, Ashley’s ability to read what sort of impression he wanted to convey with each book was so on point, it was the reason he would agree to these early morning meetings. There as was no conversation that went in circles with her. She listened, was quick witted....and could take a joke. 

“So why the meeting? I thought we were finalizing cover art?”

“Oh we are, the new artist I selected should be here soon. She’s just picking up her visitor pass downstairs.” Ashley added. Quincey nodded, brushing a errant bit of fuzz off his pant leg. His mind was preoccupied today. Tora had been in a quiet mood yesterday, even after the dreaded sharpie encounter. He had been gone most of the day, having retreated to the gym, then went....well, Quincey wasn’t certain and neither was Gyu. 

Tora had only reappeared this morning in time to drive him here, to his publicist’s office in downtown Narin, and as was his habit, he was waiting just outside in the lobby. Quincey hadn’t been able to get any real information from Tora on the drive in, and instead decided to focus as much as he could on this meeting. He must have zoned out a bit, because he glanced up, hearing his name.

“Quincey?” Ashely’s voice was sharp. “You with me, sweetie?” Quincey nodded.

“Just had some major writer's block the past couple days.”

“Ah, I see.” Ashley’s face grew concerned. “Well, you did just crank out that last of the Secret Garden series pretty quickly. Maybe take some time to slow down? We still need to consider some new publishing companies as well.....after Morrison’s company.....” she trailed off, knowing it best not to bring it up. It was obviously a sore subject. Clearly Quincey has been taken advantage of, but she was happy Quincey had decided to cut ties before that company filed for bankruptcy. 

“That Mr. Lam called again.” She added. “And his assistant.....twice.” Quincey frowned. 

“Again?”

Just then the door to the office opened, and in walked a person Quincey had never met before. 

Brown hair, glasses and a inclusive smile. She was dressed professionally, but wore, of all things, a headband that gave her the illusion of cat ears. Quincey smiled and stood as this lady moved forward, carrying a large binder, portfolio and a large to go coffee cup.

“Ashley!” She greeted and then locked eyes on Quincey. “And Mr. Noyouko! Lovely to meet you!”

“Quincey, please.” He said, and took her cup from her hand so he could shake hers. “Charmed.”

“I’m Lauren.” She added and caught sight of the mock up on Ashely’s desk. “Oh no! This.....is.....I don’t mean offense to anyone, but this might be the funniest thing I’ve seen in a while.” She sat her own binder down, and set the portfolio carefully on top. “Ashley, you didn’t seriously consider this? Look at that man’s nipnops! They’re all wonky!”

Quincey burst into a startled laugh. Nipnops?! Ashley grinned and rolled her eyes. 

“Nipnops? Really, Lauren. What are we, high schoolers? You can’t say nipples?”

“Of course I can! But nipnops is funnier.” Lauren added and then turned a smiling face to Quincey. “Ashley and I have worked together before and she thought your new series could use a little reboot and after seeing....that.....I couldn’t agree more.”

Lauren smoothly opened her portfolio and offered it to him, and continued. “I have some of my work here you can look at, and if you decide you like what you see, I would be delighted to help get your vision off the ground.” Quincey browsed the various pieces she showcased in her portfolio. Various mediums were used. Anything from water color paints to photoshop. Clearly she enjoyed her work. 

“I think you’d be a great match.” Quincey said after a few minutes. It would be foolish to not work with someone like her. She had talent. Lauren beamed. 

“Excellent. Tell me about your pirate prince.” She said, sitting in the plush chair next to Quincey’s. “I’ve read the Secret Garden, by the way. Needed a cold shower after page 312.....”

Quincey allowed himself a smile, pleased to know he could get his readers hot and bothered. 

“Well, it was quite a.....engaging scene to write.” Lauren blushed just slightly. 

“I imagine so. Now....” she opened her binder and took a pencil out and turned to a blank sheet of paper. “I was going to sketch out a quick mock up for this new novel. Just to give you a idea of what I see for it, and allow you to have some input as well....”

As she spoke, she was sketching out a rough outline of a male figure, and Quincey watched somewhat intrigued. His own medium was words and descriptions. Lauren’s was clearly visual mediums and he had to respect that.

She was silent, as the simple sketch took shape, even Ashley watched carefully. 

“You know who this reminds me of?” Ashley asked Quincey softly, at the same time he noticed the shape of the jawline.

“Tora?”

“Yep.” Ashley smiles. Lauren looked up. 

“Tora?”

“Let me guess, you saw that hunky guy in the lobby? Long black hair, amber eyes? Wanted to climb him like a tree and lick every inch on the way up?” Ashley asked frankly. Lauren nodded, cheeks reddening and Quincey just laughed. 

“That’s Tora. He is my....bodyguard.” Lauren blinked.

“Is he single?”

“Oh sweetie, you’re barking up the wrong tree.” Ashley interrupted. “That man is hot as the surface of the sun, but I don’t think he’s interested in anyone.”

Quincey smiled, biting his tongue. Oh, his friend was interested in someone, all right. The problem was.....well, there were many problems. Poppy’s face swam to the surface of his thoughts. Who was she? Did she realize just who she had ensnared? Lauren looked crestfallen and shook her head. 

“Plays for the same team?”

Ashley shrugged. 

“Not sure, and Quincey here hasn’t let me in on any secrets.” She added. He smiled neutrally.

“What Tora does in his personal time is none of my business.” That was a bold ass lie, Quincey smirked to himself, but not a chance he was going to let them know. “Besides, we have work to do, right, ladies?”

Taking the hint, both women nodded, and Quincey let his muscles relax, content to bicker quietly about cover art. 

The next stop was to a manicurist in the upscale district of Narin. Oddly enough it had been Patty, the assistant hair colorist who had recommended this particular manicurist. 

“Sara is a friend. She does amazing work. You’ll love her.” Patty has insisted when Quincey had commented how dry his cuticles were looking. Tora had only rolled his eyes when he told him the next stop, but drove with calm purpose to the salon.

The salon was a place Quincey came to think at times. Dove gray and eggshell white walls, cool and smooth. Large pictures of abstract art covered the walls, and the tasteful scent of lavender and vanilla perfumed the air, covering the harsh chemical scents that simply came with the territory of nail salons. Leather pedicure chairs lined the far wall, and soft music played, drifting in from the overhead speakers. This place wasn’t exactly a spa, but it was just thing a person needed to feel refreshed. 

Most importantly, it wasn’t affiliated in any way to the Balthuman clan. Quincey had supposed this was a good thing. His father was probably quite occupied today. He had seen for himself the headlines on social media and wasn’t sure how to interpret them. Rat infestations in various restaurants. Even some of the clubs. And a explosion on a boat. His father was many things, careless when it came to business wasn’t one of them.

Sara took him to her station immediately, offering him a glass of champagne as she always did. She glanced around once, spotted Tora and Quincey found himself smiling. Every girl in Narin wanted him, and he was clearly only interested in Poppy.

“So what has my favorite author been up to today?” Sara asked, gesturing for him to get comfortable. She took his hand in her own and examined his cuticles carefully, a slight frown on her face as she noted his chewed down pinkie nail.

“Nothing much, honey.” Quincey said, taking a generous sip of the champagne. “A meeting. Some business.”

“Looks like Patty and Genevieve have touched up those pretty locks of yours.” Sara smiles, reaching for a bottle of cuticle oil. “Anything else? What have I told you about chewing your nails?” She added, holding up his hand, and poked his pinkie finger accusingly, a playful smirk on her face.

“I got stuck writing the other night.” Quincey complained, a practiced pout on his face. “And I got stood up. Can you believe it?!”

“Someone stood you up? Are they blind?” Sara laughed, a practiced hand gently rubbing the oil over his finger tips. “Man or woman?”

“A lovely gentleman. Tall, brunette. Had a talented tongue.”

“Oooo. Tell me more.” 

Quincey fell easily into a easy conversation with Sara, laughing softly. The nail salon was quiet this time of day. Tora always preferred nail appointments to be made mid afternoon. Mornings and evenings were extra busy and Quincey could tell having to be on high alert for two hours could be exhausting on his friend. So as he sat in the specially designed chair with his feet soaking and both hands being gently massaged and pampered he watched Tora. 

Leaning outside on the side of the building, smoke wafting upwards, typing messages into his phone. 

What was he at now? Quincey watched, and Tora kept his attention on his phone, chain smoking through four cigarettes at a blinding speed. Hmm. What was bugging him? It occurred to him that he should be doing more to help his love sick little tiger more. But the hard headed brute never dropped a single word to him. 

Long years of learned to never show weakness manifested differently in people. Quincey had learned to cover his insecurities with flashy clothing, sports cars and throwing extravagant parties. Tora has gone the opposite route and wiped all expression from his face at all times, trained every single muscle to obey his commands ruthlessly. The man could wipe all emotion from his entire body in under a second. It was eerie, if Quincey thought about it too long.

He frowned, watching Tora smoke his fifth cigarette. Vincent had shaped Tora into a brutal weapon. Saw him as nothing more than that. But Quincey had grown up with him, saw him before he became a man. He knew him as a child. A boy who liked to play pranks, who had laughed loudly and while he was rough, still was gentle. In fact, looking back, Quincey could never recall a time Tora was needlessly cruel to any of his peers. Well, other than some juvenile pranks.

Vincent had beaten that part of Tora down into submission. Physically and mentally. He found that out some time around middle school. Quincey had found Tora with a black eye and swollen jaw, hiding behind the Balthuman compound. He hadn’t asked many questions, but had quickly snuck Tora out.

“Get to Alice.” Quincey had urged him, unsure what else to do. He wasn’t a doctor, but Tora had needed help. “Take my bike. Go. Get to her and get to a hospital.”

Tora had ridden away, silent. Tears in his eyes and hurting deeper than just physically. Quincey recalled that day with greater clarity, still not sure what had gone wrong. Well, it was all wrong, really. Vincent Balthuman was a monster. He had know that this for years, but now it was a shadow lingering in his mind, bigger now. Stronger. 

Quincey watched Sara trim his nails and then smooth the edges down with a fine grain file. How could he help Tora? Especially if the man didn’t talk to him? Should he let him know he knew about Poppy? 

He thought back to the information Gyu had given him. She worked for a little place called Giant Goldfish publishing.....

Hmmmmm.........

He could use a new editor. 

The drive back to the penthouse was uneventful. The sun was just beginning its slow descent in the sky. Quincey watched Tora change from business suit to jeans and dark hoodie in the space of five minutes.

“Where you off to, honey?” He asked casually, sitting on the couch. Tora paused for a moment. 

“Out.”

Quincey raised a eyebrow. No cover story. No clan business. No snapping at him to stop calling him Honey. 

Hmmm.

Was he seeing Poppy again?

“Well, have a good night then. I’ve got this manuscript to finish. See you later?”

“Maybe.” Tora shrugged and walked out the door.

Quincey didn’t do much for a while, just watched the sky change from a pale, thin blue, then shift into a soft yellow, deepen to apricot and pink to a true rose and bright fiery gold. The wispy clouds lavender and pink. It was one of his favorite times of the day, watching the hours pass. 

His mind only slightly occupied by the fact that out there Tora was hopefully wooing this Poppy.

Was it fair to wish for such a thing when the threat of Vincent Balthuman was so very real? When that blasted notebook was still nowhere to be found? No doubt the interruption of the clan businesses would put him in a dangerous mood for weeks. He had seen it before. Vincent did not like being mocked, and appearances were everything to him.

The sun shot its last rays of rich, golden light across the heavens as Quincey watched. Maybe, just maybe......

Was Tora out there with Poppy? Could he be stealing a kiss from Poppy right this moment? The romantic side of Quincey felt hopeful. The part that knew Vincent’s rage grew fearful. 

He touched his own journal and opened the pages. Would any of these stories get a happy ending?


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pieces are finally slipping into place

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey folks, so with the news and info from webtoons newest FP episode 41, I had to change things a bit. This chapter might be edited soon, and some of the older chapters did get some minor edits already. 
> 
> I hope you’re enjoying the story so far.
> 
> A shout out to my ladies in the MPL RAMBLING chat!
> 
> As always, all characters belong to Lilydusk!

Sunset had come and gone. All that remained was a deep, inky night and Quincey sighed. He had been working on this new novel the entire damn day, and at this point he was frustrated and nervous. 

Tora had not returned the previous night. Quincey had woken up and checked the guest room. No Tora. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t take care of himself. Tora was the Tiger of Ares Street for a reason, and it wasn’t just because of the tattoos that were painted over his body. 

Tora had earned that title by spilling blood. 

Quincey turned tired eyes to the several pages he had written and skimmed over everything again. This chapter was better. Clearer, but the words had surfaced in his mind slowly and by sheer force of will. Not how they normally did. It always was like this when he had other things on his mind.

He hated to admit how concerned he was about Tora. Vincent had sent a curt message asking if Tora had been with him earlier and Quincey had nearly vomited with anxiety. He had hastily called Vincent and had told him Tora was out getting something to eat and he had decided to stay in the penthouse to work on his book.

Vincent had not responded. Quincey had been glad for it, but at the same time...

Vincent looking for Tora was never a good thing. It meant Tora would be sent on an errand....

Or Vincent wanted to abuse his power over Tora again.

Quincey hated both options but the latter one made his stomach twist. 

He couldn’t remember the exact age when he realized his own father was abusing his friend. Fairly young. Before he could fully grasp the concept of Vincent causing harm to someone.

Back then, Vincent had been “dad.” The kind man that gave Quincey toys. That took him to the beach. That made jokes that made Quincey laugh. 

The shock that had overwhelmed his body upon first seeing his father’s own personal handiwork on his friend had burned its way in his young mind. He recalled seeing Tora hunched over on himself, breath coming in shallow painful gasps, a body that was aching with bruises that hadn’t blossomed yet, and blood dripping from his nose and mouth. 

Tora had sustained one hell of a beating at a young age, and Quincey had been horrified. He hadn’t been sure what to do either, not quite believing when Tora muttered: “Master Balthuman.” No....his dad wouldn’t hurt his friend.....

Would he?

Reality had become quite harsh since that day so many years ago. Quincey had learned slowly just what a monster lay under the skin of his father. 

Recalling that image, Quincey glanced impatiently at his phone. Still nothing from Tora. Why couldn’t that big brute just send a message and check in once in a damn while?

Well, he could be with.....her. 

Poppy.

Poppylan Wilkes.

Or he could be at his own apartment. 

Did Vincent call Tora to work? Frowning he checked his phone. Nothing. Nothing in the group chat. Well, he didn’t expect Gyu to answer, the guy worked a ridiculous amount of time. He really needed to do something for him. Something nice. But Tora hadn’t said anything either. 

It was 8pm. Yesterday night Tora had left looking like he was heading out to see Poppy, and then didn’t return. Quincey smiled just slightly. 

Traditionally, that would point to someone having a enjoyable night. Quincey wasn’t so sure. Finally accepting that he simply wasn’t going to get answers, he picked up the TV remote and found a news station.

Rather unexpectedly, he got his answers.

“.....suspected to be high-ranking members of a criminal organization were wounded during a sniper-rifle attack.....” Quincey stared at the news caster in surprise and listened carefully to the details. Difficult, if not impossible shots to make. Victims wounded, not killed. It was a statement attack. Designed to instill terror. It always worked. But he doubted his dad had ordered them to be left alive. 

That had Tora’s fingerprints all over it, he was positive. So Vincent had sent him out on a errand after all. Quincey frowned, and glanced at his watch. If the attack took place about a hour ago, then Tora was most likely cleaning up right now, or....trying to sleep. 

He glanced at the news and lowered the volume. Then typed out a quick text to Tora.

“You okay?”

The reply came a few minutes later, just as Quincey was beginning to feel concerned. 

“Yes. Heading out. Dinner.”

Hmmm. Quincey hesitated for just a moment. Tora had probably had a more difficult night then he wanted to let on. Then again, If the news reports were to be believed he had probably been hunkered down on a rooftop for several hours tracking his targets and waiting for the perfect moment to strike. 

Tora had once explained the way sniping actually worked one night to Quincey. He had been writing a novel with an assassin as the main character. Tora had snorted at his descriptions and sat Quincey down to fully explain the calculations and the art behind a clean shot. It had been....educational and horrifying all at the same time. Tora told him some....uncomfortable stories, before he had realized Quincey’s face was turning a sickly grayish green color. Well, the novel had been a best seller, and Tora had found that hilarious. 

“I can order something. Come on up.”

Tora answered quickly.

“No. Need to clear my head.”

Quincey frowned slightly. Well, he couldn’t exactly say he could understand how one felt after putting a bullet into four human beings in rapid succession, but he had hoped Tora would know he was free to talk about him. He felt...

Well, ever since that day Quincey found Tora beaten and broken, he had felt, responsible. Logically, it was probably silly. He had always just been Quincey the tagalong. The kid who needed to be looked after, not the one who did the mothering. But....the desire to keep his friends from suffering was very real and very strong, even if there wasn’t much he was capable of doing. Not without making things worse. It was a delicate balancing act. He frowned at his phone. Tora wanted to be left alone....

“Okay.”

There was no answer. Hmm. Quincey went to the windows and looked down. He spotted the black town car. Tora wasn’t returning tonight. He had been left in the hands of a babysitter again.

Well, it never hurt to self care. And his pores had been looking a bit oily lately.....

It wasn’t as if he had anything else to do tonight. “Sorta Handsome” was out of town. He didn’t exactly feel up for anything casual right now either. Walking to the kitchen he rummaged in the fridge until he found a cucumber and cut several thin slices, and put them on a small plate. A quick assessment of the wine bottles and he selected a 14 year old Cabernet from Spain, grabbed a wine glass and headed to the bathroom.

Honestly, he had picked this penthouse specifically because the bathroom had so much potential and by the time he had remodeled it, the room had been elevated to a statement of elegant, understated luxury. 

Warm marble floors, a jacuzzi, a inlay of sunken lights, dark stained wooden shelves and a large window with a view. The room screamed masculine luxury.

It was here that Quincey headed, and placed his bottle of wine and glass near the sink and the cucumber slices near the jacuzzi and twisted the handles on the side of the marble bath, letting the hot water run. He reached for the box of matches on the shelf and lit the small candles in there stone holders and waved the match’s tiny flame out. The smoke scent seemed to grow stronger in the humid air. 

Stripping off his pants and shirt, Quincey glanced up at the mirrors. He looked over himself a bit, flexed his arms and looked at his back. Tora had been helping him pinpoint muscle groups lately. He didn’t think he’d ever match Tora for raw strength in his lifetime, but there was something to be said for staying toned.

The Balthuman crest stood out starkly on his right pec. That had been a interesting memory. Quincey shook his head, not wanting to think about it too much, and instead poured some jasmine oil into the jacuzzi. The fragrance filled the room, rising with the steam. He added a scoop of bath salts to the hot water as well and stood silently watching the jacuzzi fill up.

When it had he pulled his hair up and out of his face, tied it back careful and poured his wine. Maybe a face mask? Hmm. Putting his phone off to the side of the jacuzzi, away from the water he turned to the shelves and the collection of sheet masks and creams.

He selected a aloe based sheet mask and ripped the package carefully and pulled the mask out then set it on its wrapper on the jacuzzi edge. Next he stripped off his boxers and slipped carefully into the hot water. He sighed and let his muscles relax. 

Yes, he needed this. Then again, who didn’t enjoy a nice hot soak after a stressful week? He unfolded the sheet mask and placed it on his face, took two cucumber slices off the plate and laid them carefully over his eyes and settled in to a have a moment of peace and serenity.

He had told Tora years ago some of his best thinking was done in hot water and it was true. He had partly used that reason to overhaul the bathroom into its current state, but it was true. Eyes closed and feeling the heat soak into his stiff muscles he let his mind wander.

Part of his mind was thinking about his novel. The pirate romance tread was hot right now, and Quincey was determined to ride this wave to another success. But he truly was considering hiring a another editor. Sometimes he needed new minds reading his manuscripts. It kept things fresh.

Something Ashley had mentioned as well, that Mr. Lam....person. He should look into that at some point. Maybe tomorrow if he had time. Did he have time? Or was tomorrow that fire cupping massage? Frowning he took a cucumber off his eye and checked his phone schedule. 

Hmm. No, that was two days from now.

The newest place in Narin for this fire massage was a place called “Fury.” He had called and booked a appointment with a enthusiastic lady named Tina who had assured him he was going to enjoy the deep tissue massage. With all the stress in his muscles from the last couple days he could use that fire massage right this moment.

Ah well. He glanced over his texts some more, opening Lauren’s to see the new novel cover she was working on. The heroic male figure really was shaping up to look like Tora. The hair was a bit longer and the eyes weren’t amber, but the face was Tora. Quincey smirked. He would have to show him this when it was done.

Speaking of....

He flipped open the Quincey’s Angels group chat. He reminded himself to get those coupons for herbal tea for Gyu. Poor guy probably was eating too much junk food again. Tora had posted another picture. 

He frowned, confused.

Why was he showing them a strawberry hair tie? 

Quincey blinked, and then enlarged the picture. 

Yep, that was a strawberry hair tie.

What the hell?

He leaned back in the water, and then ate the cucumber slice thoughtfully. Where had he gotten that?

A few minutes later, as he was working on the second cucumber slice the phone rang. 

Gyu.

“What’s up, BooBoo?” He asked with a yawn.

“Bro, I’m a little concerned about Big Bro.....what’s with the cutesy photos he’s been sendin’? Is it some kind of hint?” Gyu’s voice did seem genuinely concerned. Quincey smiled to himself, and didn’t say anything.

Gyu was younger, he had never seen what Tora behaved like when he actually liked someone. Quincey had....

“Does he want some things for his birthday? It’s coming’ up soon, isn’t it?” Gyu added. 

Quincey blinked in surprise. Shit. It was coming up soon! 

“OOOH! His birthday!” He mentally kicked himself. “I totally forgot about that!” Damnit. He had a couple weeks to figure something out, but it was never too early to plan. “I didn’t think much about the bento, I just thought it was him being his usual weird ass self....” he added, thinking about Gyu’s question. “But a strawberry hair tie sure takes the cake.....”

Quincey smirked to himself, thinking back to Tora’s first encounter with strawberry juice. “Maybe he hasn’t gotten over strawberry girl....” he said to himself.

“Who’s that?” Gyu asked curiously. Quincey kicked himself mentally again.

“Oh, um. Nobody.” He answered quickly. Tora would kill him. Quincey knew he had never gotten over that little brunette he’d met all those years ago. 

Gyu was silent for a moment. Quincey hastily added: 

“About his birthday. I’m not sure, Gyu. He’s either sleeping, working out or on bodyguard duty with me. I don’t keep tabs on everything he does.....I know my father still has him running errands. Doing jobs.” Quincey frowned, looking at his nails, and deciding he did like the job Sara had done on them. “I’m not sure about the hair tie. Looks like it belongs to a girl. He keeps his distance from women, so.....I’m not sure.”

“Yeah, keeps his distance for the same reason I do.” Gyu answered, a note of sadness in his voice. Quincey sat up straight in the water, once again feeling the reality of his gilded cage.

“And you know how I feel about that. I wish there was more I could do for the both of you.” Quincey pushed the image of Vincent’s cold eyes from his mind. 

“Bro, you’ve done enough. Cut it out.” Gyu added quickly. Quincey sighed. Yes, he funneled some extra cash into Gyu’s account on a fairly regular basis, but what was money when you didn’t have freedom?

“I know this is rich, coming from me who’s sitting in my jacuzzi...” Quincey began, real pain pinching his heart. It really wasn’t fucking fair for his friends and it stung.

“Just stop, you’re making it worse.” Gyu said, a note of teasing in his voice. Quincey sighed and closed his eyes. His father was a monster, always had been, and that fact was unlikely to change. 

“Anyway, that girl he’s been talking to. That Poppylan Wilkes....you think that’s her hair tie?”

Quincey blinked.

Slowly a memory began to surface from long ago. His heart thundered in his chest. Gyu saying those words together had slipped pieces into place.

Could it be?


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quincey decides to be a hands on Cupid. Bless our buff stud muffin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, it’s been a hot minute since I updated this particular story. Sorry about that. Had some personal stuff come up and wasn’t in the right headspace to continue this for a while. I’m finally feeling up for it again. Thanks for your patience. 
> 
> Thank you and a shout out to my ladies of the MPL RAMBLING chat. You ladies give me life!
> 
> As always, all characters belong to Lilydusk!

“I’ll bet he’s head over heels in love with her.” Quincy mused to himself. “Although, knowing that giant iceberg....he’s not going to ‘fess up his feelings so easily. Looks like I’ll have to volunteer my services as the expert in love and relationships.”

Quincey frowned up a bit, pondering this out. To say Tora was private was to call the ocean a little damp. The man moved every few months from apartment to apartment, but to be fair, that could just as well be for safety over privacy. If anyone in the Balthuman clan had a bounty on their head, besides Vincent, it was Tora.

The fame a person could earn on Ares Street for taking down its Tiger was astronomical. Quincey grit his teeth for a moment. Tora deserved so much better, and it was just his shitty luck that Vincent has taken a interest in him from a early age. Quincey paused. Hopefully....hopefully this Poppy would be open minded.

“Well fear not, my trusty side kick, Tiger Boy. I’ll find you the happiness you deserve...”

His phone rang and Quincey sighed, wondering if Gyu was still stressed over Tora’s upcoming birthday. The man was pretty difficult to buy for, after all. There were only so many times you could take a man out to dinner, and only so many video games he wanted. He also refused to buy any weapons. The man’s apartment was so stocked with guns and ammo he could equip a entire small army under siege for a month. 

Maybe Gyu had a right to be concerned. What did Tora want for his birthday? Hopefully Vincent didn’t get some sick idea to hold a party for Tora at a Miracle. Quincey knew how much his friend hated that place, not that Vincent cared...

“What is it now, Boo Boo? I told you I’ll think of something for your Big Bro’s birthday...”

“Hey Blondie.” Quincey froze. Oh yes. That rich, soothing voice. The voice that just sounded like someone speaking in cursive...the image of the strikingly handsome woman with silvery eyes swam into his vision.

“Get your ass over here. I’ve been banging on your door for hours.” 

Quincey stood quickly, grabbing a towel. 

“Si, Papi!”

It was several hours until Tora’s love life and all the problems with the lack of one entered Quincey’s brain again. He could fully admit that. Cordelia was not one to appreciate divided attention. She was intense, focused, sensual....

Quincey smiled, his brain a happy sort of mushy numbness. He glanced to his side, admiring the tangle of fiery hair resting on the pillow beside him. Beautiful. 

He rolled out of bed and yawned, heading to the bathroom, carefully pulling on a pair of boxers as he did. He reached for his phone and then quietly closed the door, thinking things over. He could make this work. Tora deserved to be happy too. More than deserved it. 

Quincey opened his phone contacts and scrolled through them to find Poppylan Wilkes. Hmm. Now how exactly did he want to work this? He glanced at the window. It looked like late morning or early afternoon.

His stomach growled. Well, he had been very active last night...

Dinner.

He left the contacts list and did a quick search for some upscale restaurants with a good selection. 

Gudrun's was a good option. Excellent food. Good bar. Solid service. 

SugarPlum would also enjoy the food. He could also spend some extra time with her before she left Narin tonight. She also could read people very well, she might be able to shed some light on his trouble little Tiger.....

Not that he wasn’t pretty confident in his assessment. The way Tora watched her the other night when she arrived with Benjamin. Quincey reviewed what he remembered about Poppy in his own mind. She absolutely got the “type” Tora liked. But there was something more there. Easily.

Well, he would find out over dinner. 

Quincey called Gudrun's and made a reservation for four and then checked the time. He sent Poppylan a quick text message and waited only a few minutes for her confirmation. 

There. Done. And now for part two of my plan. He smirked and then messaged Tora.

“Dinner tonight, on me. Gudrun's. I’m not taking no for a answer. Dress nicely.”

He left the bathroom, as Tora messaged him back.

“No. Fuck off.”

Quincey rolled his eyes, pacing. He texted back quickly. 

“Bodyguard duty. Tonight. I expect you to be there.”

Fuck. He really hated being a asshole like this. But it was for a good cause. For love, of course, one must be persistent.....

Now all he needed was for Tora to show up in a nice suit and be his normal, creepy self, and hopefully he would be able to help him along.....

Maybe he should call Gyu and see if he was working Gudrun's tonight. Wait....did Gyu work there? It was hard to keep track sometimes. Sometimes it seemed like Gyu worked at every bar and restaurant in the entire City. He really needed to find that man a better paying job. One that let him take a few more than four hours to sleep each day. Quincey frowned, staring at his phone.

“Hey Blondie.” Cordelia sat up in bed. “Where are you sneaking off to?” Her skin was luminous, and he never tired if looking on that beauty.

“Good morning. Or afternoon. Did I wake you, SugarPlum?” After last night he was still feeling a little....sleepy. “I was gonna make some phone calls. And I didn’t wanna disturb your sleep. I’ll be right back...”

“Don’t sweat it. I’m heading back to the hotel now. I have work to do...” Cordelia was explaining as she pulled her boots on. Quincey felt a little stab of sadness in his chest. No. A big stab. There was never enough time....

“Awww! You said you’d spend more time with me today.” He protested. “You’re leaving Narin City tonight, aren’t you?  
God knows when we’ll get to see each other again. Or rather.....when I’ll get to see you again....”

Cordelia’s job kept her pretty mobile. The fact of the matter was, Quincey didn’t get to see her that often. They had....as far as he was concerned, some hot chemistry, but....it was never enough. Not for him. Maybe one day....

“That’s easy.” Cordelia explained, lacing the boot on her foot. “You’ll see me when you see me.” She was dressed and ready to leave in moments. Standing, she stretched once and picked up her jacket that was lying on the floor where it had been flung rather unceremoniously last night. “Ciao, Bella.”

“Wait, wait, wait, wait!” Quincey called, he needed her tonight. “Will you be working all day, today?”

Cordelia paused and glanced back at him. Quincey smiled just a bit. SugarPlum would be the perfect person to help. Also, she would never admit it, but she enjoyed surprises. 

“Because I have something FUN that you might be interested in.”

Cordelia raised a eyebrow, her pale, silvery eyes curious.

“Alright, Blondie. Spill.”

Quincey chuckled softly.

“I have a friend....”


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quincey puts his match making skills to the test. It does not go as planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in this chapter. The past week has been very very stressful and deeply emotional for me. We unexpectedly lost a family pet and I’m not taking it well. 
> 
> I’ll be fine, and I do appreciate everyone’s concern.
> 
> Shout out to the ladies of the MPL Rambling chat and all the Seedlings!!! You ladies give me life!
> 
> As always, all characters belong to Lilydusk!

Quincey watched Cordy leave having secured a promise of her help for tonight. She would meet him at Gudrun’s, hopefully arriving the same time Poppylan would. Now he had the rest of the afternoon to plan. 

Tora was proving to be the most difficult. He kept insisting he wasn’t feeling well, which frankly was probably just Tora being a grouchy ass. Honestly, the man could be such a pain, but Quincey refused to take no for a answer. Damnit, why was helping him so difficult?

Poppylan had agreed easily, thankfully. He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes, looking out his windows. Ugh.

“I’ll take a car to Gudrun’s. You get to drive us back.” Quincey texted Tora.

No reply.

It had been a hour. At this point, he was annoyed. He showered, shaved, styled his hair carefully and picked out a nice pair of slacks and a fabulous leopard print turtle neck that stretched delightfully over his shoulders and arms. He looked himself over in the mirror, pacing the penthouse as the sun began to set. 

Finally he called for a Balthuman car, something he rarely did, and went downstairs to meet it. He waved off the offer for additional security.

“No need. Tora is meeting me shortly.”

The driver, a older man, simply nodded and drove him to Gudrun’s. 

The restaurant was opulent without being over the top. It was all dark wood and warm lighting, with furnishings of copper and gold. It was sleek and yet welcoming. If Poppylan looked the place up, hopefully she would understand the expected dress code. She seemed observant, no need to worry. Quincey headed to the bar and spoke to the young guy there, just to get a feel of the place. His reservation was at a nice table, he had explained to the host he was a touch early and his guests would arrive soon.

Quincey normally preferred to be fashionably late to his own parties, but this was a mission of mercy, a act of brotherly  
Love for this dense ass Tiger, who CLEARLY needed a gentle guiding hand in courting his lady love....

Quincey smiled.

It would be nice for Tora to have someone in his life. 

Hopefully Tora would be smart enough to keep her out of Vincent’s possessive gaze. His father was not one to share any of his things. Loyalties included. He shook himself mentally and turned his attention back to the wide array of bottles adorning the shelves over the bar.

As he spoke to the barkeeper he checked his phone. He was actually a bit shocked to realize Gyu didn’t work here. His friend seemed to work at every bar and restaurant in Narin. Poppylan and Cordy would be here soon. Tora didn’t drink...well, he had seen the man sip alcohol a few times, but he didn’t drink in public. Ever. 

Still, maybe Cordy would be interested. Did Poppylan drink? She was awfully small, she didn’t seem like it. Well, he didn’t mind just talking. Besides, he still had a bit to think over as it was.

He was positive Poppylan was Tora’s type. Positive. The way he looked at her was a dead give away. And Tora didn’t just offer to drive people home.

For about 20 seconds he allowed himself to consider the possibility that he was wrong.....

But no. 

Every single instinct in his body was screaming that his friend had fallen for the tiny brunette. 

He could see why.

Granted Poppy wasn’t his type, personally, but she was a cute little thing. Sweet. Gentle. Seemed like she had a sharp mind. 

Hopefully open minded enough to understand just what she would be getting into....

Assuming she felt the same way....

Quincey frowned, just slightly, considering that side of things. But he had seen her blush. Had heard her stammer when talking to Tora....

There was......something there. Maybe she was just shy? 

Hopefully she would open up a bit more in a friendly setting like Gudrun’s. A nice dinner, a friendly chat.....

Cordy was excellent at getting people to open up and feel comfortable. She could work her magic on almost anyone. 

In fact, Sugarplum seemed curious about Poppylan after Quincey mentioned his dilemma. Well, he would need her help. Tora could smell a set up from miles away, and Quincey was counting on the fact that his golden eyed guardian was at the very least, attracted to this lady already.

It was about 5 minutes before their scheduled time when Poppylan arrived. He spotted her easily in her bright red, off the shoulder blouse with a flower pattern, her hair combed into a loose bun and a matching lipstick. Her make up was all done with a very light touch, and he admired her skill. 

In short, she looked like a stunning little doll. Her eyes took in her surroundings as she made her way towards him and he offered a warm smile. He could see why Tora liked her. 

“Hello Poppy! Nice to see you again.” Quincey smiled. Tora was going to love this outfit on her. “I was right about to get some drinks for us.”

He noticed the approach of someone much taller than Poppy, the fiery hair a sharp contrast to her lovely, deeply bronzed skin.

“Ooh! Sugarplum’s here too!”

“Sugarplum?” Poppy asked, as Cordy slid up next to her, looking radiant in her loose blouse and boots, her helmet tucked under one arm. 

“Looks like we’re heading in the same direction, Love.” Cordelia smiled down at Poppy. The brunette glanced up. Then to Quincey’s surprise and confusion, she seemed to recognize Cordy.

“Ooh! It’s you!”

“Poppy, right? I’m Cordelia. Sorry about just now, by the way. I swear, I’m not normally such a reckless rider.” 

But Poppy was beaming a bright, cheerful smile, her delicate charm on display.

“I just wanna gush about your mad riding skills AND your beast of a motorcycle! I ride too! But it’s just a lil baby scooter.”

“Really? Well, hit me up, Love.” Cordelia was smiling. “I’ll be more than happy to take you out for a spin.”

Quincey blinked. This wasn’t expected and it wasn’t exactly like he could ask for clarification, because he just noticed a shadow moving behind Sugarplum.

“Wait....you two know each other?” He raised a eyebrow at Cordy who gave him a sphinx like grin. “Hate to interrupt the fun...but let’s not keep my final guest waiting, shall we?”

Poppy turned to him quickly, eyes wide, nervous. For a moment, Quincey felt concern. Did he misjudge this? He watched his friend materialize from the warm shadows of the entryway, utterly silent.

“...final guest?” Poppy asked.

“Oh yes! Actually...he’s....ummm....” Tora’s amber eyes looked furious. Anger radiated off him. Quincey hesitated for a second then pushed on, willing Tora to play along, and play NICELY. “He’s been standing behind you for quite a while, I’m afraid.”

“Huh?” Poppy blinked once, confused. Then her eyes grew wide as panic swept over her features. Quincey gulped softly. 

SHIT.


End file.
